FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,  D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED   BY  HIM   TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


Division      S  ^-  t 
Section        ^¥S 


TWENTY-FOU 


MEMORY  HYMNS 


AND  THEIR  STORIES 


By    •O 
AMOS  R.  WELLS 


rsOT 


mm 


UNITED  SOCIETY   OF  CHRISTIAN   ENDEAVOR 

BOSTON  and  CHICAGO 


Copyright,  1906, 

by  the 

United  Society  of  Christian  Endeavor 


INDEX 


A  Mighty  Fortress  Is  Our  God 
Abide  with  Me       .... 
All  Hail  the  Power  of  Jesus'  Name 
Am  I  a  Soldier  of  the  Cross  . 
Awake,  My  Soul    .... 
Calm  on  the  Listening  Ear  of  Night 
From  Greenland's  Icy  Mountains  . 
God  Be  with  You  till  We  Meet  Again 
God  Bless  Our  Native  Land  . 
How  Firm  a  Foundation 
In  The  Cross  of  Christ  I  Glory    . 
Jesus,  Lover  of  My  Soul 
Just  as  I  Am  ..... 
My  Country,  'Tis  of  Thee    . 
My  Faith  Looks  Up  to  Thee 
Nearer,  My  God,  to  Thee     . 
O  Day  of  Rest  and  Gladness  . 
O  Little  Town  of  Bethlehem 
Onward,  Christian  Soldiers  . 
Rock  of  Ages  .... 

Sun  of  My  Soul    .... 
Speed  Away  ..... 
Stand  Up,  Stand  Up  for  Jesus 
Take  My  Life        .... 

3 


12 

84 

7 

71 
81 

16 

21 

88 

39 
29 

65 
41 

50 

35 
61 
46 
92 
18 
11 

54 
68 

25 

74 
58 


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in  2011  with  funding  from 

Calvin  College 


http://www.archive.org/details/twentyfourmemoryOOwell 


PREFACE 

On  the  way  to  the  Denver  Christian  Endeavor  Convention, 
Mrs.  F.  E.  Clark  asked  a  large  number  of  distinguished  clergy- 
men and  eminent  laymen  that  were  upon  the  train,  to  prepare 
a  list  of  what  they  considered  the  most  beautiful  and  helpful 
Christian  hymns.  They  did  so,  and  a  large  and  exceedingly 
fine  list  was  the  result. 

There  were  many  agreements,  as,  for  instance,  all  had 
"Jesus,  Lover  of  My  Soul  "  and  "  Nearer,  My  God,  to  Thee." 
The  hymns  that  received  the  most  votes  may  fairly  be  taken  as 
the  leading  hymns  of  the  Christian  church.  It  is  these 
twenty-four  hymns,  together  with  their  stories,  that  are  given 
in  this  pamphlet. 

It  is  hoped  that  they  will  be  committed  to  memory  by  all 
Juniors,  and  it  is  suggested  that  one  of  these  hymns  be  repeated 
in  concert  at  every  Junior  meeting  for  a  month.  Let  the  pas- 
tor or  superintendent  tell  the  story  of  the  hymn,  and  give  an 
opportunity  for  those  who  can  bring  in  additional  stories  to 
do  so. 

If  we  [can  add  to  our  mind  treasury  the  twenty-four  leading 
hymns  of  the  Christian  church,  what  a  splendid  employment  it 
will  be  ! 

I  make  no  claim  for  originality  in  this  book.  The  facts 
given,  the  anecdotes  related,  are  brought  together  from  the  best 
works  on  hymnology.  Practically  nothing  is  mine  except  the 
selection  and  arrangement. 

Amos  R.  Wells. 

Boston. 

5 


Twenty-Four  Memory   Hymns 


"  All  Hail  the  Power  of  Jesus'  Name  " 
Edward  Perronet 

This,  one  of  the  greatest  of  hymns,  was  written  by  Edward 
Perronet,  and  is  the  one  thing  that  has  kept  his  name  green  in 
the  earth. 

Nevertheless,  Perronet  was  a  man  worth  knowing  about, 
quite  apart  from  his  magnificent  hymn.  He  was  descended 
from  French  Protestants,  and  his  father  was  an  English  clergy- 
man who  joined  the  Wesley s  in  carrying  on  their  great  revival 
of  religion. 

His  son  Edward  also  became  a  clergyman,  and  for  a  time 
labored  with  the  Wesleys.  Charles  Wesley  writes  of  his  bold- 
ness in  preaching.  At  one  time  he  and  Perronet  were  beset  in 
a  house  by  a  mob  of  rough  revilers,  whom  Perronet  opposed 
courageously,  while  they  abused  him  and  threw  dirt  on  him. 

In  his  note-book,  three  years  later,  Charles  Wesley  speaks  of 
a  journey  he  made  to  London,  with  his  brother  John  and  with 
Perronet.  "We  were  in  perils  of  robbers,  who  were  abroad, 
and  had  robbed  many  the  night  before,"  writes  Wesley.  But, 
he  stoutly  adds,  "We  commended  ourselves  to  God,  and  rode 
over  the  heath  singing."     What  a  scene  that  must  have  been  1 

7 


8  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

John  Wesley  wanted  to  hear  Perronet  preach,  and  Perronet, 
for  some  reason,  would  not  preach  before  Wesley.  One  day 
Wesley,  seeing  Perronet  in  the  congregation,  announced  that 
he  would  preach  the  next  morning.  Perronet  did  not  want  to 
make  a  scene,  so  the  next  morning  he  mounted  the  pulpit,  ex- 
plained that  he  had  not  consented  to  preach  and  felt  that  he 
could  not,  but  nevertheless  he  would  give  them  the  best  ser- 
mon that  had  ever  been  delivered.  Thereupon  he  opened  the 
Bible,  and  read  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  from  beginning 
to  end,  and  without  a  word  of  comment.  A  song  and  prayer 
finished  the  service. 

After  eight  years  of  co-operation  with  the  Wesleys,  Perronet 
left  them,  disagreeing  with  some  of  their  regulations.  They 
continued,  however,  to  esteem  and  love  each  other. 

The  last  years  of  Perronet  were  spent  at  Canterbury,  where 
he  was  pastor  of  an  independent  church,  and  where  he  died  in 
1792,  at  the  age  of  sixty-six. 

He  published  three  volumes  of  religious  poems,  one  being 
made  up  of  versified  Scripture.  Some  of  these  poems  deserve 
to  be  widely  used,  as,  for  instance,  the  hymn  containing  the 
stanza  :  — 

"  O  grant  me,  Lord,  that  sweet  content 
That  sweetens  every  state ; 
Which  no  internal  fears  can  rent, 
Nor  outward  foes  abate." 

None  of  Perronet's  poems,  however,  have  attained  fame  ex- 
cept the  immortal  ''All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name."  It 
was  written  in  1779,  and  was  first  printed,  in  1780,  in  The 
Gospel  Magazine.  The  poet  gave  it  the  title,  "  On  the  Res- 
urrection," and  as  he  wrote  it,  there  were  eight  stanzas,  as  fol- 
lows : — 


All  Hail  the  Power  of  Jesus'  Name 

All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name, 

Let  angels  prostrate  fall ; 
Bring  forth  the  royal  diadem, 

To  crown  Him  Lord  of  all  ! 

Let  high  born  seraphs  tune  the  lyre, 

And,  as  they  tune  it,  fall 
Before  His  face  who  tunes  their  choir, 

And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all ! 

Crown  Him,  ye  morning  stars  of  light, 

Who  fixed  this  floating  ball, 
Now  hail  the  Strength  of  Israel's  might, 

And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all  ! 

Crown  Him,  ye  martyrs  of  your  God, 

Who  from  His  altar  call ; 
Extol  the  stem  of  Jesse's  rod, 

And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all ! 

Ye  seed  of  Israel's  chosen  race, 

Ye  ransomed  of  the  fall, 
Hail  Him  who  saves  you  by  His  grace 

And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all  ! 

Hail  Him,  ye  heirs  of  David's  line, 

Whom  David  Lord  did  call, 
The  God  incarnate,  Man  divine, 

And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all ! 

Sinners,  whose  love  can  ne'er  forget 
The  wormwood  and  the  gall, 

Go  spread  your  trophies  at  His  feet, 
And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all  ! 

Let  every  tribe  and  every  tongue 

That  bound  creation's  call 
Now  shout  in  universal  song, 

The  crowned  Lord  of  all ! 


io  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

In  committing  the  hymn  to  memory  you  may  prefer  to  use 
it  as  it  now  stands  in  our  hymn-books,  where  it  is  shortened 
and  changed,  and  one  stanza  has  been  added  :  — 

"  Oh,  that  with  yonder  sacred  throng 
We  at  His  feet  may  fall ; 
We'll  join  the  everlasting  song, 
And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all." 

This  last  stanza  was  added  by  the  famous  hymn  collector,  Rev. 
John  Rippon,  in  1787. 

At  first  the  hymn  was  sung  to  the  tune  of  "  Miles'  Lane," 
written  for  the  hymn  by  William  Shrubsole,  a  London  organist, 
in  1780.  Now,  however,  we  use  the  tune  "  Coronation," 
which  was  composed  in  1792,  the  year  Perronet  died,  by  Oliver 
Holden,  a  carpenter  of  Charlestown,  Mass.  Holden's  queer 
old  organ,  on  which  this  glorious  tune  was  first  played,  is  still 
to  be  seen  in  Boston. 

The  most  famous  story  connected  with  Perronet's  great  hymn 
is  told  of  the  missionary  to  India,  Rev.  E.  P.  Scott.  One  day 
he  saw  on  the  street  a  man  of  so  strange  an  appearance  that  he 
inquired  about  him,  and  learned  that  he  belonged  to  a  wild 
mountain  tribe  among  whom  Christ  had  never  been  preached. 
Mr.  Scott  prayed  over  the  matter,  and  decided  to  visit  that 
tribe. 

As  soon  as  he  reached  their  mountain  home,  he  fell  in  with  a 
savage  band  who  were  on  a  war  expedition.  They  seized  him, 
and  pointed  their  spears  at  his  heart. 

At  once  the  missionary  drew  out  the  violin  that  he  always 
carried  with  him,  and  began  to  play  and  sing  in  the  native 
language,  "  All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name  !  "  He  closed 
his  eyes,  expecting  death  at  any  minute.  When  he  reached  the 
third  stanza,  as  nothing  had  happened,  he  opened  his  eyes,  and 


All  Hail  the  Power  of  Jesus'  Name        1 1 

was  amazed  to  see  that  the  spears  had  fallen  from  the  hands  of 
the  savages,  and  big  tears  were  in  their  eyes  ! 

They  invited  Mr.  Scott  to  their  homes,  and  he  spent  two  and 
a  half  years  among  them,  winning  many  of  them  to  Christ. 
When  poor  health  compelled  him  to  return  to  America,  they 
followed  him  for  thirty  or  forty  miles,  begging  him  to  come 
back  again.  This  he  did,  and  continued  to  work  among  them 
until  his  death. 


"A  Mighty  Fortress  Is  Our  God  " 

Martin  Luther 

Martin  Luther  was  born  in  Eisleben,  Germany,  in  1483, 
a  poor  miner's  son.  His  heart  was  full  of  music  when  he  was 
a  boy,  and  he  used  to  sing  from  door  to  door.  After  he  became 
a  man,  and  had  led  in  the  great  revolt  from  the  superstitions, 
sins,  and  injustices  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  he  did  two 
things  that  more  than  all  others  established  Protestantism  firmly, 
— he  translated  the  Bible  into  the  language  of  the  common  peo- 
ple, and  he  wrote  hymns  also  in  their  every-day  language,  to  be 
sung  to  attractive,  familiar  tunes. 

The  first  printed  hymn-book  was  published  at  Wittenberg  in 
1524, — eight  hymns  with  tunes,  and  four  of  them  by  Luther. 
Since  that  beginning  it  is  said  that  Germans  have  written  more 
than  100,000  hymns,  and  the  greatest  of  all  is  this  hymn  of 
Luther's.  Luther  wrote  some  thirty-six  hymns  in  all,  but  this 
is  his  noblest.  Some  say  that  the  strong  tune  to  which  the 
hymn  is  always  sung  was  composed  by  Luther,  but  he  prob- 
ably merely  adapted  a  tune  already  in  existence. 

The  hymn  was  written  about  1528,  and  though  many  at- 
tempts have  been  made  to  associate  it  with  various  stirring 
events  in  the  life  of  the  great  reformer,  it  is  not  known  what 
occasion  prompted  it.  He  based  it  on  the  Forty-sixth  Psalm, 
but  it  does  not  follow  the  course  of  the  psalm  ;  it  merely  catches 
up  and  carries  on  the  psalm's  leading  thought. 

Whatever  its  origin,  "  Ein'  Feste  Burg  ist  Unser  Gott  "  had 
an  immediate  influence  in  Germany,  and  became  for  the  Refor- 

12 


A  Mighty  Fortress  Is  Our  God  13 

mation  what  the  great  French  hymn,  La  Marseillaise,  became 
to  France.     It  is  now  the  national  hymn  of  the  Fatherland. 

Says  Dr.  Benson  : 

"  It  was  sung  at  Augsburg  during  the  Diet,  and  in  all  the 
churches  of  Saxony,  often  against  the  protest  of  the  priest.  It 
was  sung  in  the  streets ;  and,  so  heard,  comforted  the  hearts  of 
Melanchthon,  Jonas,  and  Cruciger,  as  they  entered  Weimar, 
when  banished  from  Wittenberg  in  1547. 

"It  was  sung  by  poor  Protestant  emigrants  on  their  way  into 
exile,  and  by  martyrs  at  their  death.  It  is  woven  into  the  web 
of  history  of  Reformation  times,  and  it  became  the  true  national 
hymn  of  Protestant  Germany. 

"  Gustavus  Adolphus  ordered  it  sung  by  his  army  before  the 
battle  of  Leipzig,  in  1631,  and  on  the  field  of  that  battle  it  was 
repeated,  more  than  two  centuries  afterward,  by  the  throng 
assembled  at  the  jubilee  of  the  Gustavus  Adolphus  Association. 
Again  it  was  the  battle  hymn  of  his  army  at  Liitzen,  in  1632, 
in  which  the  king  was  slain,  but  his  army  won  the  victory. 

"It  has  had  a  part  in  countless  celebrations  commemorating 
the  men  and  events  of  the  Reformation ;  and  its  first  line  is 
engraved  on  the  base  of  Luther's  monument  at  Wittenberg." 

Luther  comforted  his  own  heart  with  the  hymn,  and  when 
his  great  cause  seemed  almost  lost  he  would  turn  to  his  friend 
Melanchthon  and  say,  "  Come,  Philip,  let  us  sing  the  Forty- sixth 
Psalm." 

There  is  a  story  of  the  use  of  it  by  the  German  troops  lodged 
in  a  church  after  the  battle  of  Sedan.  They  were  too  excited 
to  sleep.  At  last  some  one  began  to  play  Luther's  hymn  upon 
the  organ.  The  soldiers  united  in  a  splendid  outburst  of  song, 
after  which  they  fell  into  peaceful  slumber. 

The  hymn  has  been  translated  into  English  more  than  eighty 
times,  but  only  twice  with  such  success  that  the  result  has  won 


14  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

popular  favor.  In  England,  they  sing  the  translation  made  by 
Thomas  Carlyle,  who  was  the  one  that  introduced  the  hymn  in 
that  land,  in  1831.     His  first  stanza  is : 

A  sure  stronghold  our  God  is  He, 

A  trusty  shield  and  weapon ; 
Our  help  He'll  be,  and  set  us  free 

From  every  ill  can  happen. 
That  old  malicious  foe 
Intends  us  deadly  woe  ; 
Armed  with  might  from  hell 
And  deepest  craft  as  well, 

On  earth  is  not  his  fellow. 

Our  favorite  American  version  is  that  by  Rev.  Frederic 
Henry  Hedge,  a  great  German  scholar,  himself  a  poet  of  no 
mean  ability,  whose  translation  appeared  in  1852.  Longfellow 
has  a  version  in  his  "Golden  Legend, "  and  one  of  Whittier's 
war  poems  is  in  Luther's  metre,  and  is  called,  "Em'  Feste 
Burg  ist  Unser  Gott."     Here  is  Dr.  Hedge's  translation : 

A  mighty  Fortress  is  our  God, 

A  Bulwark  never  failing  ; 
Our  Helper  He  amid  the  flood 

Of  mortal  ills  prevailing  : 
For  still  our  ancient  foe 
Doth  seek  to  work  us  woe ; 
His  craft  and  power  are  great, 
And,  armed  with  cruel  hate, 

On  earth  is  not  his  equal. 

Did  we  in  our  own  strength  confide, 

Our  striving  would  be  losing ; 
Were  not  the  right  man  on  our  side, 

The  man  of  God's  own  choosing  : 
Dost  ask  who  that  may  be  ? 


A  Mighty  Fortress  Is  Our  God  15 

Christ  Jesus,  it  is  He ; 
Lord  Sabaoth  His  name, 
From  age  to  age  the  same, 
And  He  must  win  the  battle. 

And  though  this  world,  with  devils  filled, 

Should  threaten  to  undo  us ; 
We  will  not  fear,  for  God  hath  willed 

His  truth  to  triumph  through  us. 
The  prince  of  darkness  grim, — 
We  tremble  not  for  him ; 
His  rage  we  can  endure, 
For  lo  !  his  doom  is  sure, 

One  little  word  shall  fell  him. 

That  word  above  all  earthly  powers, 

No  thanks  to  them,  abideth ; 
The  Spirit  and  the  gifts  are  ours 

Through  Him  who  with  us  sideth : 
Let  goods  and  kindred  go, 
This  mortal  life  also ; 
The  body  they  may  kill : 
God's  truth  abideth  still, 

His  kingdom  is  for  ever. 


"  Calm  on  the  Listening  Ear  of  Night " 
Edmund  Hamilton  Sears 

To  be  the  author  of  two  of  the  most  famous  and  helpful  of 
Christmas  hymns  is  glory  enough  for  any  man.  That  was  the 
blessed  result  of  the  life  of  Rev.  Edmund  Hamilton  Sears, 
D.  D.  He  was  a  busy  pastor  ;  he  wrote  four  or  five  books  and 
many  other  poems,  but  long  after  all  his  other  work  is  forgotten 
those  two  Christmas  hymns  will  be  remembered  and  sung. 

Dr.  Sears  was  born,  lived,  and  died  in  a  narrow  region  in 
Massachusetts.  His  birth  was  in  1810,  at  Sandisfield,  and  his 
death  was  on  January  14,  1876,  at  Weston.  He  was  a  Sweden- 
borgian  in  belief,  but  he  was  the  pastor  of  Unitarian  churches. 

When  he  was  a  young  man,  in  1834,  Mr.  Sears  wrote  the 
first  of  his  two  splendid  Christmas  odes ;  when  he  was  in  the 
prime  of  life,  in  1850,  he  wrote  the  second,  "It  came  upon 
the  midnight  clear."  It  is  the  first  that  is  here  given  to  com- 
mit to  memory,  "Calm  on  the  listening  ear  of  night."  The 
two  hymns  are  alike  and  yet  different.  In  Dr.  Sears's  volume, 
"Sermons  and  Songs,"  they  stand,  the  one  preceding  and  the 
other  following  a  sermon  for  Christmas  Eve  on  1  Tim.  2  :  6. 
And  here  is  our  hymn,  just  as  it  appears  in  that  book : — 

Calm  on  the  listening  ear  of  night 

Come  heaven's  melodious  strains, 
Where  wild  Judaea  stretches  forth 

Her  silver  mantled  plains ; 
Celestial  choirs  from  courts  above 

Shed  sacred  glories  there, 
And  angels,  with  their  sparkling  lyres, 

Make  music  on  the  air. 
16 


Calm  on  the  Listening  Ear  of  Night        17 

The  answering  hills  of  Palestine 

Send  back  the  glad  reply, 
And  greet  from  all  their  holy  heights 

The  Day- Spring  from  on  high ; 
O'er  the  blue  depths  of  Galilee, 

There  comes  a  holier  calm, 
And  Sharon  waves,  in  solemn  praise, 

Her  silent  groves  of  palm. 

"  Glory  to  God  !  "     The  lofty  strain 

The  realm  of  ether  fills ; 
How  sweeps  the  song  of  solemn  joy 

O'er  Judah's  sacred  hills  ! 
"  Glory  to  God  !  "     The  sounding  skies 

Loud  with  their  anthems  ring, 
"  Peace  on  the  earth  ;  good  will  to  men 

From  heaven's  Eternal  King." 

Light  on  thy  hills,  Jerusalem ! 

The  Saviour  now  is  born, 
And  bright  on  Bethlehem's  joyous  plains 

Breaks  the  first  Christmas  morn, 
And  brightly  on  Moriah's  brow 

Crowned  with  her  temple  spires, 
Which  first  proclaim  the  new-born  light, 

Clothed  with  its  orient  fires. 

This  day  shall  Christian  tongues  be  mute, 

And  Christian  hearts  be  cold  ? 
Oh,  catch  the  anthem  that  from  heaven 

O'er  Judah's  mountains  rolled, 
When  burst  upon  that  listening  night 

The  high  and  solemn  lay : 
"Glory  to  God,  on  earth  be  peace," 

Salvation  comes  to-day  ! 


"  O  Little  Town  of  Bethlehem  " 
Bishop  Brooks 

When  Phillips  Brooks,  the  beloved  and  great  preacher,  was 
a  boy,  his  parents  had  him  and  his  brothers  learn  hymns. 
They  used  to  enjoy  reciting  them  on  Sunday  evenings,  and 
when  Phillips  went  to  college  he  could  repeat  some  two  hun- 
dred of  them.  He  never  forgot  them,  and  they  often  came  up 
in  his  wonderful  sermons. 

It  is  not  at  all  surprising,  then,  that  Phillips  Brooks  began  to 
write  hymns  himself.  He  often  composed  poems,  and  some 
of  his  poems  have  become  very  dear  to  all  Christians.  One  of 
the  best  of  these  is  the  beautiful  Christmas  hymn  that  we  are 
to  commit  to  memory  this  month. 

It  is  not  at  all  surprising,  either,  that  the  great  preacher 
should  write  poems  for  children.  He  loved  all  children,  and 
liked  nothing  better,  giant  of  a  man  as  he  was,  than  to  get 
down  on  the  floor  and  romp  with  them.  He  often  wrote  letters 
to  his  child  friends,  and  these  letters  are  among  the  most 
delightful  bits  of  his  writing. 

Mr.  Brooks  preached  in  Philadelphia  first,  and  then  in 
Boston.  Our  hymn  was  written  when  he  was  rector  of  the 
Holy  Trinity  Church  of  Philadelphia,  and  for  his  Sunday- 
school.  It  was  used  by  the  children  at  their  Christmas  service 
in  the  year  1868.  How  little  they  understood  what  a  famous 
song  they  were  singing  for  the  first  time  ! 

The  lovely  tune,  "  St.  Louis,"  to  which  the  hymn  is  usually 
sung,  was  written  for  it  at  that  time  by  Mr.  Lewis  H.  Redner, 
the  organist  of  the  church,  the  superintendent  of  the  Sunday- 

18 


O  Little  Town  of  Bethlehem  19 

school,  and  teacher  of  one  of  the  classes.  It  was  in  the  middle 
of  the  night  before  that  Christmas  service  that  Mr.  Redner 
woke  up  suddenly  with  angelic  strains  ringing  in  his  ears.  He 
took  a  piece  of  music-paper  and  jotted  down  the  melody  of  the 
tune ;  then  the  next  morning,  before  going  to  church,  he  filled 
in  the  harmony.  So  little  did  he,  too,  understand  what  a  great 
thing  he  was  doing. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  the  churches  realized  the  beauty 
of  the  song.  Not  until  1892  was  the  hymn  admitted  to  the 
hymnal  of  Bishop  Brooks's  own  denomination. 

Here  is  the  Christmas  carol,  as  Phillips  Brooks  wrote  it. 
The  fourth  stanza  is  unfamiliar,  because  the  writer  himself  left 
it  out  of  the  later  copies  of  the  poem ;  but  you  will  want  to  see 
it,  and  probably  to  learn  it  with  the  others. 

O  little  town  of  Bethlehem, 

How  still  we  see  thee  lie  ! 
Above  thy  deep  and  dreamless  sleep 

The  silent  stars  go  by : 
Yet  in  thy  dark  streets  shineth 

The  everlasting  Light ; 
The  hopes  and  fears  of  all  the  years 

Are  met  in  thee  to-night. 

For  Christ  is  born  of  Mary  ; 

And  gathered  all  above, 
While  mortals  sleep,  the  angels  keep 

Their  watch  of  wondering  love. 
O  morning  stars  together 

Proclaim  the  holy  birth  ; 
And  praises  sing  to  God  the  King, 

And  peace  to  men  on  earth. 

How  silently,  how  silently, 

The  wondrous  Gift  is  given  ! 
So  God  imparts  to  human  hearts 

The  blessings  of  His  heaven. 


20  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

No  ear  may  hear  His  coming, 

But  in  this  world  of  sin, 
Where  meek  souls  will  receive  Him  still, 

The  dear  Christ  enters  in. 

Where  children  pure  and  happy 

Pray  to  the  blessed  Child, 
Where  misery  cries  out  to  Thee, 

Son  of  the  Mother  mild  ; 
Where  Charity  stands  watching, 

And  Faith  holds  wide  the  Door, 
The  dark  night  wakes,  the  glory  breaks, 

And  Christmas  comes  on  re  more. 

O  holy  Child  of  Bethlehem, 

Descend  to  us,  we  pray ; 
Cast  out  our  sin,  and  enter  in, 

Be  born  in  us  to-day. 
We  hear  the  Christmas  angels 

The  great  glad  tidings  tell ; 
O  come  to  us,  abide  with  us, 

Our  Lord  Emmanuel. 


"  From  Greenland's  Icy  Mountains  " 
Bishop  Heber 

One  of  the  greatest  and  noblest  of  all  hymn-writers  is  Regi- 
nald Heber.  He  was  born  April  21,  1783,  at  Malpas,  Cheshire, 
England.  His  father  gave  him  every  advantage,  and  he  made 
the  best  use  of  his  opportunities.  He  became  a  distinguished 
poet  when  a  young  man  at  Oxford.  The  first  year  after  enter- 
ing, when  only  seventeen  years  old,  he  took  a  prize  for  a  Latin 
poem,  and  two  years  afterward  he  won  a  prize  by  a  remarkable 
poem  on  Palestine,  which  was  received  with  such  applause  as 
had  never  before  been  heard  in  that  sedate  gathering.  After 
this  success  his  parents  found  him  on  his  knees  in  grateful 
prayer. 

He  became  a  minister  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  began 
to  write  hymns.  It  was  just  becoming  the  custom  to  use  hymns 
in  Episcopal  churches,  and  there  were  no  hymn-books. 

The  Christians  of  England  were  aroused  at  that  time  to  the 
great  call  of  foreign  missions,  and  a  collection  was  ordered  to 
be  taken  for  that  object  in  all  the  churches. 

On  Saturday,  May  29,  18 19,  young  Heber  happened  to  be 
visiting  his  father-in-law,  in  whose  church  he  was  to  preach 
the  next  day.  This  collection  was  to  be  taken,  and  a  suitable 
hymn  was  wanted.     They  asked  Heber  to  write  one. 

He  retired  to  another  part  of  the  room,  and  in  a  short  time 
read  the  first  three  stanzas  of  his  famous  hymn. 

"  There  !     That  will  do  very  well,"  they  told  him. 

"No,  no,  the  sense  is  not  complete,"  answered  Heber;  so 
he  added  the  splendid  fourth  stanza,  the  entire  hymn  being  as 
follows,  according  to  the  poet's  own  manuscript,  which  has 

21 


22  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

fortunately  been  preserved  for  us  (bringing  $210  when  sold, — 
a  sum  larger  than  the  missionary  collection  received  when  it 
was  first  sung)  :  — 

From  Greenland's  icy  mountains, 

From  India's  coral  strand, 
Where  Afric's  sunny  fountains 

Roll  down  their  golden  strand, 
From  many  an  ancient  river, 

From  many  a  palmy  plain, 
They  call  us  to  deliver 

Their  land  from  error's  chain. 

What  though  the  spicy  breezes 

Blow  soft  o'er  Ceylon's  isle; 
Though  every  prospect  pleases, 

And  only  man  is  vile : 
In  vain  with  lavish  kindness 

The  gifts  of  God  are  strown ; 
The  heathen  in  his  blindness 

Bows  down  to  wood  and  stone. 

Can  we,  whose  souls  are  lighted 

With  wisdom  from  on  high, 
Can  we  to  men  benighted 

The  lamp  of  life  deny  ? 
Salvation  !    O  salvation  ! 

The  joyful  sound  proclaim, 
Till  each  remotest  nation 

Has  learned  Messiah's  Name. 

Waft,  waft,  ye  winds,  His  story, 

And  you,  ye  waters,  roll, 
Till  like  a  sea  of  glory 

It  spreads  from  pole  to  pole ; 
Till  o'er  our  ransomed  nature 

The  lamb  for  sinners  slain, 
Redeemer,  King,  Creator, 

In  bliss  returns  to  reign. 


From  Greenland's  Icy  Mountains  23 

The  beautiful  and  stirring  tune  to  which  the  hymn  is  always 
sung  was  written  as  rapidly  as  the  hymn  itself. 

A  printed  copy  of  the  poem  reached  Miss  Mary  W.  Howard, 
of  Savannah,  Ga.  She  admired  it  greatly,  and  wanted  a  tune 
for  it.  The  metre  was  a  new  one  at  that  time.  So  Miss 
Howard  sent  the  poem  to  Lowell  Mason,  then  a  young  bank 
clerk  and  singing-teacher  in  Savannah.  In  half  an  hour  he 
sent  back  the  "Missionary  Hymn"  tune  that  is  universally 
used. 

When  Heber  was  forty  years  old,  he  became  first  bishop  of 
Calcutta.  He  refused  the  appointment  twice,  for  he  dearly 
loved  his  quiet  home  and  church,  but  his  sense  of  duty  finally 
compelled  him  to  accept.  As  he  went  out  to  the  India  of 
which  he  had  sung,  he  had  an  opportunity  to  breathe  the 
"spicy  breezes"  that  "blow  soft  o'er  Ceylon's  isle,"  and  that 
carry  the  fragrance  of  the  aromatic  forests  far  out  to  sea. 

His  duties  and  authority  extended  all  over  India,  Ceylon, 
Mauritius,  and  Australasia.  He  entered  upon  his  work  with 
great  energy.  It  was  he  who  ordained  the  first  native  minister, 
Christian  David.  He  traveled  far  and  wide,  but  the  climate 
and  the  heavy  tasks  quite  wore  him  out.  In  less  than  three 
years,  on  April  3,  1826,  the  good  bishop  suddenly  died. 

Heber  was  greatly  beloved.  Thackeray  called  him  "one 
of  the  best  of  English  gentlemen."  He  wrote  fifty-seven 
hymns,  which  were  published  after  his  death  in  one  book.  It 
is  said  that  every  one  of  these  hymns  is  in  use — an  honor  paid 
to  no  other  hymn-writer  that  ever  lived. 

His  missionary  hymn  is  his  most  famous  production,  and 
some  one  has  ventured  to  say  that  it  has  accomplished  as  much 
for  foreign  missions  as  all  the  missionary  sermons  ever  preached, 
— a  statement  he  would  be  the  first  to  rebuke. 

But  Heber  wrote  other  great  hymns,  the  greatest  being  the 


24  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

noblest  hymn  of  adoration  in  the  language,  "  Holy,  holy,  holy, 
Lord  God  Almighty  !  "  Tennyson  pronounced  this  the  finest 
hymn  ever  written  in  any  language. 

He  also  wrote  the  noblest  warrior  hymn  ever  composed  : 
"The  Son  of  God  goes  forth  to  war."  Another  favorite  is 
his  "Brightest  and  best  of  the  sons  of  the  morning."  Still 
others  are:  "By  cool  Siloam's  shady  rill,"  "Lord  of  mercy 
and  of  might,"  and  "Bread  of  the  world  in  mercy  broken." 

Altogether,  though  not  the  greatest  of  English  hymn -writers, 
Heber  may  fairly  be  called  the  most  poetical  of  them  all ;  and 
his  beautiful  personal  character,  when  one  knows  about  it,  adds 
a  new  beauty  to  his  lovely  hymns. 


"Speed  Away!" 
Fanny  Crosby 

Fanny  Crosby  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  world's  hymn- 
writers  ;  perhaps  only  Watts  and  Wesley  would  rank  above  her. 
She  is  great  in  the  number  of  her  hymns — more  than  three 
thousand,  and  in  the  large  number  of  them  that  have  found  fa- 
vor with  Christians  and  seem  destined  to  live  forever.  To  name 
only  a  few,  what  immortal  glory  belongs  to  the  author  of  "  Pass 
me  not,  O  gentle  Saviour,"  "  Rescue  the  perishing,"  "lam 
Thine,  O  Lord,"  "Blessed  assurance,  Jesus  is  mine,"  "Jesus, 
keep  me  near  the  cross,"  "  'Tis  the  blessed  hour  of  prayer," 
"Safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus,"  "  Some  day  the  silver  cord  will 
break,"  "Thou,  my  everlasting  portion,"  "  Saviour,  more  than 
life  to  me,"  "  All  the  way  my  Saviour  leads  me,"  "  Hide  Thou 
me,"  "Jesus  is  tenderly  calling  thee  home,"  "Lord,  at  Thy 
mercy- seat  humbly  I  fall,"  and  many  other  hymns  almost  as 
well  known. 

Frances  Jane  Crosby  was  born  in  Southeast,  N.  Y.,  on  March 
24,  1820.  She  is  now,  therefore,  eighty-six  years  old,  but  is 
still,  I  believe,  in  excellent  health. 

She  has  been  blind  since  she  was  six  months  old,  but  she  is 
of  a  happy,  contented  disposition,  and  refuses  to  be  pitied  be- 
cause of  her  great  affliction.  Indeed,  when  only  eight  years 
old  she  wrote:  — 

"  O  what  a  happy  soul  am  I ! 
Although  I  cannot  see, 
I  am  resolved  that  in  this  world 
Contented  I  will  be  ; 

25 


26  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

How  many  blessings  I  enjoy 
That  other  people  don't ! 

To  weep  and  sigh  because  I'm  blind, 
I  cannot,  and  I  won't." 


Fanny  Crosby  spent  twelve  years  as  a  pupil  in  the  New  York 
Institution  for  the  blind,  and  then  she  was  a  teacher  from  1847 
to  1858,  teaching  language  and  history.  While  she  was  yet  a 
pupil  she  was  a  splendid  illustration  of  what  education  can  do 
for  the  blind,  and  once  she  recited  a  poem  on  the  subject  be- 
fore the  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives  at  Washington, 
and  also  before  the  governor  and  legislature  of  New  Jersey. 

In  1845  she  began  to  write  words  for  the  music  of  George  F. 
Root,  who  became  music-teacher  in  the  institution.  Many  of 
these  songs  became  famous,  and  the  royalties  on  one  of  them, 
"  Rosalie,  the  Prairie  Flower,"  amounted  to  nearly  three  thou- 
sand dollars.  Another  well-known  song  of  hers  is  "There's 
music  in  the  air." 

It  was  not,  however,  till  February  5,  1864,  that  she  wrote 
her  first  hymn.  It  was  written  for  W.  B.  Bradbury,  and  ever 
since  that  time  he,  and  his  successors,  Biglow  and  Main,  have 
been  her  publishers,  accepting  and  paying  for  all  that  she  writes. 
She  has  written  many  hymns  for  such  singers  and  composers  as 
Sankey,  Doane,  Lowry,  Philip  Phillips,  Sweney,  Sherwin  and 
Kirkpatrick.  Her  songs  have  blessed  thousands  of  lives,  and 
there  is  scarcely  one  of  them  but  has  won  many  souls  to  the 
Saviour. 

In  1858  Miss  Crosby  was  married  to  another  pupil  of  the  in- 
stitution, Alexander  Van  Alstyne,  a  musician,  and  the  two 
lived  together  in  tender  sympathy  and  mutual  helpfulness. 
She  sometimes  uses  her  full  name,  but  often  signs  her  hymns 
with  pen  names :  A.,  C,  D.  H.  W.,  V.  A.,  Ella  Dale;  Jenny 


Speed  Away  27 

V.,  Mrs.  Jenie  Glenn,  Mrs.  Kate  Grinley,  Viola,  Grace  J. 
Francis,  Mrs.  C.  M.  Wilson,  Lizzie  Edwards,  Henrietta  E. 
Blair,  Rose  Atherton,  Maud  Marion,  Leah  Carlton,  and  still 
others  ! 

She  writes  very  rapidly,  and  some  of  her  most  famous  hymns 
have  been  dictated  almost  as  fast  as  the  words  could  be  taken 
down.  Her  hymns  are  full  of  the  Bible  with  which  her  memory 
is  stored.  When  she  was  a  mere  child  she  committed  to 
memory  the  first  four  books  of  the  Old  Testament  and  the  four 
Gospels. 

In  her  home  at  Bridgeport,  Conn.,  the  aged  singer  sits 
peacefully  awaiting  the  call  to  the  world  where  she  shall  see  all 
beautiful  things  and  shall  join — and  what  voice  will  be  sweeter  ? 
— in  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb. 

The  memory  hymn  by  her  which  we  are  to  learn  this  month 
is  "  Speed  away  " — a  song  that  has  done  much  to  arouse  inter- 
est in  missions.  It  has  become  the  missionary  farewell  hymn, 
being  sung  at  the  parting  with  hundreds  of  missionaries  as  they 
set  out  upon  their  noble  errands. 

Speed  away  !  speed  away  on  your  mission  of  light, 
To  the  lands  that  are  lying  in  darkness  and  night ; 
'Tis  the  Master's  command  j  go  ye  forth  in  His  name, 
The  wonderful  gospel  of  Jesus  proclaim ; 
Take  your  lives  in  your  hand,  to  the  work  while  'tis  day, 
Speed  away  !  speed  away  !   speed  away  ! 


Speed  away,  speed  away  with  the  life-giving  Word, 
To  the  nations  that  know  not  the  voice  of  the  Lord ; 
Take  the  wings  of  the  morning  and  fly  o'er  the  wave, 
In  the  strength  of  your  Master  the  lost  ones  to  save ; 
He  is  calling  once  more,  not  a  moment's  delay, 
Speed  away  !  speed  away  !  speed  away  ! 


28  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

Speed  away,  speed  away  with  the  message  of  rest, 
To  the  souls  by  the  tempter  in  bondage  oppressed  ; 
For  the  Saviour  has  purchased  their  ransom  from  sin, 
And  the  banquet  is  ready.     O  gather  them  in ; 
To  the  rescue  make  haste,  there's  no  time  for  delay, 
Speed  away  !  speed  away  !  speed  away  ! 


"How  Firm  a  Foundation" 

Probably  by  Robert  Keene 

Our  modern  hymn  books  give  but  six  of  the  seven  original 
stanzas  of  the  hymn,  "How  firm  a  foundation."  We  give 
here  the  entire  hymn.  Those  that  prefer  may,  of  course,  learn 
it  in  the  modern  form. 

It  first  appeared  in  a  book  entitled  "A  Selection  of  Hymns 
from  the  Best  Authors,"  published  in  1787  by  a  Baptist  minis- 
ter of  London,  Dr.  John  Rippon,  who,  though  an  ardent  ad- 
mirer of  Watts,  desired  to  have  some  hymns  in  addition  to  those 
by  the  great  hymn  writer.  Many  of  the  hymns  in  his  collection 
were  there  gathered  for  the  first  time,  and  have  been  in  use  ever 
since.  We  print  the  hymn  precisely  as  it  stood  in  Dr.  Rippon' s 
book,  old  style  s's  and  all : 

SCRIPTURE  PROMISES 
CXXVIII.     Elevens.     K 


Exceeding  great  and  precious  Promifes,  2  Pet.  iii.  4 

1  How  firm  a  Foundation,  ye  Saints  of  the  Lord, 
Is  laid  for  your  Faith  in  his  excellent  Word ; 
What  more  can  he  fay  than  to  you  he  hath  faid  ? 
You,  who  unto  Jesus  for  Refuge  have  fled. 

2  In  every  Condition,  in  Sicknefs,  in  Health, 
In  Poverty's  Vale,  or  abounding  in  Wealth  ; 

At  Home  and  Abroad,  on  the  Land,  on  the  Sea, 
"  As  thy  Days  may  demand,  f  hall  thy  Strength  ever  be. 
29 


30  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

3  "  Fear  not,  I  am  with  thee,  O  be  not  difmay'd, 
'  *  I,  I  am  thy  God,  and  will  ftill  give  thee  Aid ; 

"  I'll  ftrengthen  thee,  help  thee,  and  caufe  thee  to  ftand, 
"Upheld  by  my  righteous  omnipotent  Hand. 

4  "  When  thro'  the  deep  Waters  I  call  thee  to  go, 
"  The  Rivers  of  Woe  f  hall  not  thee  overflow  ; 

"  For  I  will  be  with  thee,  thy  Troubles  to  blefs, 
"  And  fanctify  to  thee,  thy  deepeft  Diftrefs. 

5  "  When  thro'  fiery  Trials  thy  Pathway  f  hall  lie, 
"My  Grace  all  fufncient  fhall  be  thy  Supply; 
"  The  Flame  fhall  not  hurt  thee,  I  only  defign 
"  Thy  Drofs  to  confume,  and  thy  Gold  to  refine. 

6  "  Even  down  to  old  Age,  all  my  People  fhall  prove 
"My  fovereign,  eternal,  unchangeable  Love; 
"And  when  hoary  Hairs  fhall  their  Temples  adorn, 
"  Like  lambs  they  fhall  ftill  in  my  bofom  be  borne. 

7  "  The  Soul  that  on  Jesus  hath  lean'd  for  Repofe, 
"  /  will  not,  I  will  not  defert  to  his  Foes ; 

"That  Soul,  tho'  all  Hell  fhould  endeavor  to  fhake, 
"Til  never — ?w  never — no  never  forfake."  l 


Agreeable  to  Dr.  Doddridge's  Tranflation  of  Heb.  xiii.  5. 

Notice  the  "K "  following  the  "Elevens,"  which  indi- 
cates the  number  of  syllables.  That  K is  all  that  is  posi- 
tively known  about  the  author.  After  Dr.  Rippon's  death 
some  one  changed  the  "K "  in  later  editions  to  "Kirk- 
ham,"  but  it  is  not  thought  that  Thomas  Kirkham  wrote  it. 
Daniel  Sedgwick,  an  old-time  student  of  hymns,  heard  an  old 
lady  in  an  almshouse  say  that  the  hymn  was  written  by  George 
Keith,  a  hymn-writer  of  the  day,  and  on  that  slender  ground 
most  of  our  modern  hymnals  attribute  it  to  him.     It  is  quite 


How  Firm  a  Foundation  31 

certain,  however,  that  the  author  was  Robert  Keene,  who  was 
precentor  in  Dr.  Rippon's  church,  and  who  also  wrote  the  tune 
"  Geard,"  to  which  it  was  originally  sung. 

We  sing  the  hymn  to  the  tune  called  "  Portuguese  Hymn," 
because  some  one  heard  it  in  the  chapel  of  the  Portuguese  Em- 
bassy in  London,  and  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was 
Portuguese  in  its  origin.  It  is  not,  however,  but  is  the  music 
of  a  Latin  Christmas  hymn,  "Adeste  Fideles  " — the  hymn 
which  we  have  translated  in  the  familiar  "  O  come,  all  ye  faith- 
ful." "John  Reading  "  is  falsely  given  by  many  books  as  the 
composer  of  this  tune. 

General  Curtis  Guild,  Jr.,  has  told  in  The  Sunday- School 
Times  how  this  hymn,  "  How  firm  a  foundation,"  thus  wedded 
to  a  Christmas  tune,  was  sung  on  a  famous  Christmas  morning. 
The  Seventh  Army  Corps  was  encamped  on  the  hills  above 
Havana,  Cuba,  on  Christmas  Eve  of  1898 — a  beautiful  tropical 
night.  Suddenly  a  sentinel  from  the  camp  of  the  Forty-ninth 
Iowa  called,  "Number  ten;  twelve  o'clock,  and  all's  well!  " 
A  strong  voice  raised  the  chorus,  and  many  manly  voices  joined 
in  until  the  whole  regiment  was  singing.  Then  the  Sixth  Mis- 
souri added  its  voices,  and  the  Fourth  Virginia,  and  all  the 
rest,  till  there,  as  General  Guild  said,  "on  the  long  ridges 
above  the  great  city  whence  Spanish  tyranny  once  went  forth  to 
enslave  the  New  World,  a  whole  American  army  corps  was 
singing : 

"  '  Fear  not,  I  am  with  thee,  O  be  not  dismayed ; 
I,  I  am  thy  God,  and  will  still  give  thee  aid ; 
I'll  strengthen  thee,  help  thee,  and  cause  thee  to  stand, 
Upheld  by  my  righteous,  omnipotent  hand.' 

"  The  Northern  soldier  knew  the  hymn  as  one  he  had  learned 
beside  his  mother's  knee.     To  the  Southern  soldier  it  was  that 


32  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

and  something  more;  it  was  the  favorite  hymn  of  General 
Robert  E.  Lee,  and  was  sung  at  that  great  commander's 
funeral. 

"Protestant  and  Catholic,  South  and  North,  singing  together 
on  Christmas  day  in  the  morning — that's  an  American  army  !  " 

Notice  the  Scripture  reference  that  follows  the  title,  "Ex- 
ceeding great  and  precious  Promifes."  Look  it  up,  and  note 
its  appropriateness. 

Notice  also  the  second  stanza,  omitted  from  many  modern 
hymnals.  Would  you  willingly  lose  it  ?  When  it  is  omitted, 
the  real  beginning  of  the  Scripture  quotation  which  answers  the 
question,  "What  more  can  He  say?"  is  left  out.  After  the 
first  seven  lines,  the  rest  of  the  hymn  is  all  Bible. 

Notice,  too,  the  last  line,  with  its  footnote  referring  to  Dod- 
dridge's translation  of  Heb.  13:5.  This  translation  brings 
out  more  clearly  than  our  Revised  or  Authorized  versions  the 
multiplied  negatives  of  the  original  Greek:  "I  will  not,  I  will 
not  leave  thee,  I  will  never,  never,  never  forsake  thee." 

The  story  is  told  of  the  venerable  Dr.  Charles  Hodge,  so 
greatly  honored  and  beloved  at  Princeton,  that  one  evening, 
when  conducting  prayers,  the  old  man  was  reading  this  hymn, 
but  was  so  overcome  by  its  exalted  sentiments,  especially  in  view 
of  his  own  close  approach  to  the  better  land,  that  he  had  no 
voice  for  the  last  line,  but  could  only  indicate  it  by  gestures, 
beating  out  the  rhythm  of  the  words. 

Andrew  Jackson,  after  retiring  from  the  Presidency,  became 
a  devout  member  of  the  Presbyterian  church.  One  day  in  his 
old  age  a  company  of  visitors  was  with  him,  when  General 
Jackson  said,  "  There  is  a  beautiful  hymn  on  the  subject  of  the 
exceeding  great  and  precious  promises  of  God  to  His  people. 
It  was  a  favorite  hymn  with  my  dear  wife  till  the  day  of  her 
death.     It  begins  thus  :   '  How  firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of 


How  Firm  a  Foundation  33 

the  Lord.'  I  wish  you  would  sing  it  now."  So  the  company 
did  what  was  asked  by  the  old  hero. 

Miss  Willard  wrote  once :  "  Mother  says  that  at  family 
prayers  in  her  home  they  were  wont  to  sing  together,  '  How 
firm  a  foundation  '  ;  and  her  parents  used  to  say  it  would  never 
wear  out,  because  it  was  so  full  of  Scripture.  When  mother 
came  back  to  us  after  being  confined  to  her  room  six  weeks,  we 
sang  that  hymn  for  her,  and  she  broke  in  at  the  verse  about 
1  hoary  hairs '  and  said  :  '  How  I  enjoyed  that  for  my  old 
grandmother  who  lived  to  be  ninety-seven,  and  I  enjoyed  it 
for  my  dear  father  who  was  eighty-six  when  he  passed  away ; 
and  now  my  daughter  enjoys  it  for  me,  who  am  eighty-four, 
and  perhaps  she  will  live  on  to  be  as  old  as  I,  when  I  feel  sure 
she  will  have  friends  who  will  enjoy  it  just  as  tenderly  for 
her.'  " 

A  beautiful  story  is  told  of  that  noble  woman,  Fidelia  Fisk, 
the  devoted  missionary  to  the  women  of  Persia.  One  time 
when  she  was  worn  out  with  her  heavy  and  difficult  labors,  she 
was  attending  a  meeting.  Her  weary  body  greatly  needed 
rest.  Of  a  sudden  a  native  woman  came  behind  her  as  she  sat 
on  a  mat,  and  whispered,  "Lean  on  me."  Miss  Fisk  heard, 
but  scarcely  heeded.  Then  again  came  the  whisper,  "Lean 
on  me."  Miss  Fisk  then  leaned  gently  on  her  unknown  friend. 
But  again  came  the  whisper,  "If  you  love  me,  lean  hard." 
The  worn-out  missionary  took  the  words  as  a  message  from  her 
Father  in  heaven,  urging  her,  if  she  loved  Him,  to  lean  hard 
upon  Him. 

At  one  time  a  pastor  told  this  touching  story  to  his  people  in 
a  Kansas  village.  They  were  greatly  discouraged  because  of 
the  failure  of  their  crops.  As  soon  as  the  story  was  finished, 
the  minister  sat  down  and  let  the  people  make  their  own  appli- 
cation.    At  once  a  voice  struck  up  our  hymn,  and  one  after 


34  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

another  joined  in  until  the  little  company  had  begun  once  more 
to  "  lean  for  repose  "  on  the  never-failing  Arms  : 

"  The  soul  that  on  Jesus  hath  leaned  for  repose 
I  will  not,  I  will  not  desert  to  its  foes ; 
That  soul,  though  all  hell  should  endeavor  to  shake, 
I'll  never,  no  never,  no  never  forsake." 


"  My  Country,  Tis  of  Thee  " 

Samuel  Francis  Smith 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  wrote  many  poems  for  the  re- 
unions of  his  class  at  Harvard,  the  famous  class  of  1829,  and 
one  of  them,  written  when  all  the  class  were  gray-heads,  con- 
tains these  lines  : — 

"  And  there's  a  nice  youngster  of  excellent  pith, — 
Fate  tried  to  conceal  him  by  naming  him  Smith  ; 
But  he  shouted  a  song  for  the  brave  and  the  free, — 
Just  read  on  his  medal,  '  My  country,'  '  of  thee.'  " 

This  "Smith"  was  Samuel  Francis  Smith,  who  wrote  our 
American  national  anthem.  He  was  born  in  Boston,  October 
21,  1808;  graduated  from  Harvard,  and  studied  for  the  min- 
istry at  Andover,  becoming  a  Baptist  clergyman. 

It  was  while  he  was  at  Andover  that  he  wrote  the  famous 
hymn.  Lowell  Mason,  the  eminent  composer,  had  given  him 
some  collections  of  German  songs  for  children,  that  he  might 
translate  them  into  English.  "One  dismal  day  in  February, 
1832,"  Dr.  Smith  wrote  long  afterward,  "  about  half  an  hour 
before  sunset,  I  was  turning  over  the  leaves  of  one  of  the  music 
books,  when  my  eye  rested  on  the  tune  which  is  now  known  as 
'America.'  I  liked  the  spirited  movement  of  it,  not  knowing 
it,  at  that  time  to  be  '  God  Save  the  King. '  I  glanced  at  the 
German  words  and  saw  that  they  were  patriotic,  and  instantly 
felt  the  impulse  to  write  a  patriotic  hymn  of  my  own,  adapted 
to  the  tune.  Picking  up  a  scrap  of  waste  paper  which  lay  near 
me,  I  wrote  at  once,  probably  within  half  an  hour,  the  hymn 

35 


36  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

'America,'  as  it  is  now  known  everywhere.     The  whole  hymn 
stands  to-day  as  it  stood  on  the  bit  of  waste  paper,  five  or  six 
inches  long  and  two  and  a  half  wide." 
This  is  the  hymn  :  — 

My  country,  'tis  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  liberty, 

Of  thee  I  sing ; 
Land  where  my  fathers  died, 
Land  of  the  pilgrims'  pride, 
From  every  mountain  side 

Let  freedom  ring. 

My  native  country, — thee, 
Land  of  the  noble  free, — 

Thy  name  I  love ; 
I  love  thy  rocks  and  rills, 
Thy  woods  and  templed  hills ; 
My  heart  with  rapture  thrills 

Like  that  above. 

Let  music  swell  the  breeze, 
And  ring  from  all  the  trees 

Sweet  freedom's  song : 
Let  mortal  tongues  awake ; 
Let  all  that  breathe  partake ; 
Let  rocks  their  silence  break, 

The  sound  prolong. 

Our  fathers'  God,  to  Thee, 
Author  of  liberty, 

To  Thee  we  sing  ; 
Long  may  our  land  be  bright 
With  freedom's  holy  light; 
Protect  us  by  Thy  might, 

Great  God,  our  King. 

"  I  never  designed  it  for  a  national  hymn,"  Dr.  Smith  said 


My  Country,  Tis  of  Thee  37 

afterwards  j  "I  never  supposed  I  was  writing  one. ' '  Many  of 
the  best  things  come  in  just  that  unconscious  way. 

On  the  Fourth  of  July  of  that  same  year,  1832,  the  hymn 
was  first  sung,  under  Mr.  Mason's  superintendency,  at  a  chil- 
dren's celebration  in  Park  Street  Church,  Boston,  and  soon  the 
song  of  the  young  poet  became  popular  everywhere.  It  has 
never  been  adopted  by  our  government  as  a  national  anthem, 
but  it  has  been  adopted  by  the  people  themselves,  which  is  far 
better. 

Dr.  Smith  became  an  honored  pastor,  in  several  important 
churches.  At  one  time  he  was  a  professor  of  modern  lan- 
guages, for  he  was  familiar  with  fifteen  languages,  and  some 
one  who  visited  him  in  his  eighty-sixth  year  found  the  vigorous 
old  man  looking  around  for  a  text -book  with  which  to  begin 
the  study  of  Russian  ! 

At  one  time  he  was  editor  of  The  Baptist  Missionary  Mag- 
azine ;  at  another  time  of  The  Christian  Review.  For  fifteen 
years  he  was  secretary  of  the  American  Baptist  Missionary 
Union.  He  was  deeply  interested  in  missions,  and  only  second 
in  fame  to  his  national  anthem  is  his  missionary  hymn,  "  The 
morning  light  is  breaking."  It  was  he  who  did  much  toward 
saving  the  "Lone  Star"  mission  in  India,  by  writing  his  poem 
with  that  title.  Other  well-known  hymns  of  his  are  "  To-day 
the  Saviour  calls  "  and  "  Softly  fades  the  twilight  ray." 

The  fact  that  "My  country,  'tis  of  thee"  is  written  to  the 
same  tune  as  the  English  national  anthem,  "  God  save  the 
King,"  has  given  rise  to  many  stirring  scenes  at  Christian  En- 
deavor conventions  all  over  the  world.  Very  often  one  stanza 
of  each  anthem  is  sung,  the  conclusion  being  one  stanza  of 
"Blest  be  the  tie." 

This  was  done  at  the  magnificent  meeting  on  Boston  Com- 
mon, at  the  Christian  Endeavor  Convention  of  July,   1895. 


38  Twenty- Four  Memory  Hymns 

Eleven  thousand  persons  were  present  in  the  great  tent,  and 
Dr.  Smith  probably  never  received  such  an  ovation  as  when  he 
came  forward  to  read  the  poem  which  he  wrote  for  the  occasion, 
"  Arouse  ye,  arouse  ye,  O  servants  of  God."  The  noble  verses 
were  read  with  much  fervor,  though  in  a  voice  whose  strength 
had  been  stolen  by  many  years. 

On  November  19  of  that  same  year  the  aged  poet  passed 
away.  He  died  in  the  harness,  just  as  he  was  taking  the  train 
to  preach  in  a  neighboring  town  on  the  following  Sunday. 
And  so  passed  from  earth  the  Christian  patriot,  whose  love  for 
his  country  widened  out  into  the  missionary  love  for  all  the 
^vorld. 


"God  Bless  Our  Native  Land" 
Charles  T.  Brooks  and  John  S.  Dwight 

This  brief  hymn  of  only  two  stanzas  is  one  of  the  best  pa- 
triotic hymns  ever  written.  Strangely  enough,  it  is  uncertain 
just  who  wrote  it,  and  when  it  was  composed.  At  least  four 
different  writers  have  declared  positively  that  the  hymn  was 
their  own. 

It  is  certain,  however,  that  the  poem  was  written  jointly  by 
two  Unitarian  clergymen,  life-long  friends, — Rev.  Charles 
Timothy  Brooks  and  Dr.  John  Sullivan  Dwight.  These  were 
both  Massachusetts  men,  the  first  being  born  in  Salem,  and  the 
second  in  Boston.  They  were  born  the  same  year,  1813,  and 
graduated  from  Harvard  the  same  year,  1832.  Their  deaths 
occurred  in  each  case  at  an  advanced  age,  but  there  was  here 
a  separation  of  ten  years,  for  Mr.  Brooks  passed  away  in  1883, 
and  Dr.  Dwight  in  1893. 

Both  were  men  of  gentle  and  retiring  disposition.  Mr. 
Brooks  was  active  in  literary  work,  especially  as  a  translator. 
Dr.  Dwight  was  for  many  years  a  leader  in  the  musical  interests 
of  Boston,  and  founded  in  1852  Dwight 's  Journal  of  Music, 
which  he  continued  until  1881.  Dr.  Dwight  was  one  of  the 
band  of  enthusiasts  who  joined  in  the  famous  experiment  of 
Brook  Farm,  where  a  company  of  lofty  thinkers  endeavored  to 
put  into  practice  their  theories  of  simple,  ideal  living. 

Both  Mr.  Brooks  and  Dr.  Dwight  laid  claim  at  different  times 
to  be  the  author  of  this  hymn,  but  the  truth  seems  to  be  that 
each  had  a  hand  in  the  matter,  and  it  is  possible  that  it  was 
translated  from  the  German,  or,  at  least,  that  a  German  poem 

39 


40  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

furnished  the  fundamental  idea.     At  any  rate,  the  hymn  first 
appeared  in  Lowell  Mason's  Carmina  Sacra,  in  1841. 

The  following  is  the  form  in  which  it  was  there  printed. 
Although  there  are  several  versions,  this  is  the  one  best  worth 
committing  to  memory : 

God  bless  our  native  land ; 
Firm  may  she  ever  stand 

Through  storm  and  night : 
When  the  wild  tempests  rave, 
Ruler  of  wind  and  wave, 
Do  Thou  our  country  save 

By  Thy  great  might. 

For  her  our  prayers  shall  rise 
To  God,  above  the  skies ; 

On  Him  we  wait ; 
Thou  who  art  ever  nigh, 
Guarding  with  watchful  eye, 
To  Thee  aloud  we  cry, 

God  save  the  state. 


"  Jesus,  Lover  of  My  Soul  " 
Charles  Wesley 

The  three  greatest  hymn-writers  of  our  English  tongue  are 
Isaac  Watts,  Charles  Wesley,  and  Fanny  Crosby.  There  are 
many  who  think  that  the  hymn  we  are  to  learn  this  month  is  the 
greatest  hymn  ever  written ;  all  men  agree  that  it  is  the  best  of 
Wesley's  hymns,  though  he  wrote  no  less  than  six  thousand. 
Many  of  these  six  thousand,  too,  rise  to  the  highest  rank  of  re- 
ligious poetry,  such  as  those  beginning  :  "Ye  servants  of  God, 
your  Master  proclaim,"  "Come,  Thou  long-expected  Jesus," 
"A  charge  to  keep  I  have,"  "Arise,  my  soul,  arise,"  "Love 
divine,  all  love  excelling,"  "  Depth  of  mercy  !  Can  there  be," 
"Soldiers  of  Christ,  arise,"  "Oh,  for  a  thousand  tongues  to 
sing,"  and  the  noble  Christmas  hymn,  "Hark!  the  herald 
angels  sing."  That  is  a  wonderful  list  of  great  hymns  to  be 
written  by  one  man. 

Charles  Wesley,  next  to  the  youngest  of  nineteen  children, 
was  born  at  Epworth,  England,  on  December  18,  1708.  His 
father  was  Rev.  Samuel  Wesley,  and  his  mother,  Susannah 
Wesley,  was  a  very  remarkable  woman.  When  he  was  a  lad 
of  fifteen,  an  Irish  member  of  Parliament,  Garret  Wesley,  a 
wealthy  man,  wanted  to  adopt  him.  His  father  left  him  to 
decide  the  matter,  and  he  decided  in  the  negative.  The  boy 
that  was  finally  adopted  became  the  father  of  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington (Lord  "Wellesley,"  as  he  spelled  "Wesley"),  who 
conquered  Napoleon  at  Waterloo.  How  history  might  have 
been  changed  if  young  Charles  Wesley  had  not  decided  as  he 
did! 

4i 


42  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

In  1735  Wesley  became  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, and  went  with  his  brother  John  on  a  missionary  journey 
to  Georgia,  becoming  secretary  to  Governor  Oglethorpe. 
Within  a  year,  broken  in  health  and  discouraged,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  return  to  England. 

Years  before  this,  when  Charles  Wesley  was  at  Oxford,  he 
and  his  comrades  were  so  strict  in  their  religious  methods  that 
they  were  nicknamed  "Methodists."  But  both  Charles  and 
John  had  to  learn  more  truly  what  religion  really  is.  Charles 
first  learned  it  from  Peter  Bonier,  a  Moravian  of  devout  spirit, 
and  from  Thomas  Bray,  an  unlearned  mechanic  who  knew 
Jesus  Christ.  John  soon  after  had  the  same  experience,  and 
from  their  vivified  preaching  sprung  the  great  Methodist 
churches  of  to-day.  Under  the  preaching  of  the  Wesleys — 
especially  that  of  John  Wesley,  for  Charles  soon  withdrew  from 
the  more  active  work — revivals  flamed  all  over  England. 
There  was  much  persecution.  Charles  himself  was  driven 
from  his  church.  Many  of  his  hymns  were  written  in  time  of 
trial,  and  it  is  said  that  "Jesus,  Lover  of  my  soul,"  was  written 
just  after  the  poet  and  his  brother  had  been  driven  by  a  violent 
mob  from  the  place  where  they  had  been  preaching.  Another 
story  (and  neither  tale  can  be  verified)  says  that  the  hymn  was 
written  just  after  a  frightened  little  bird,  pursued  by  a  hawk, 
had  flown  into  Wesley's  window  and  crept  into  the  folds  of  his 
coat.  The  probable  date  of  the  hymn  is  1740.  After  a  long 
life  of  nearly  eighty  years,  Charles  Wesley  died,  March  29,  1 788. 

Here  is  his  great  hymn,  including  the  third  stanza,  which  is 
now  never  sung : — 

Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 

Let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly, 
While  the  nearer  waters  roll, 

While  the  tempest  still  is  high  ! 


Jesus,  Lover  of  My  Soul  43 

Hide  me,  0  my  Saviour,  hide, 

Till  the  storm  of  life  be  past ; 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide, 

Oh,  receive  my  soul  at  last ! 

Other  refuge  have  I  none, 

Hangs  my  helpless  soul  on  Thee 
Leave,  ah  !  leave  me  not  alone, 

Still  support  and  comfort  me  ! 
All  my  trust  on  Thee  is  stayed, 

All  my  help  from  Thee  I  bring ; 
Cover  my  defenceless  head 

With  the  shadow  of  Thy  wing. 

Wilt  thou  not  regard  my  call  ? 

Wilt  thou  not  accept  my  prayer? 
Lo  !  I  sink,  I  faint,  I  fall  — 

Lo  !  on  Thee  I  cast  my  care  : 
Reach  me  out  Thy  gracious  hand  ! 

While  I  of  Thy  strength  receive, 
Hoping  against  hope  I  stand, 

Dying,  and,  behold,  I  live  ! 

Thou,  O  Christ,  art  all  I  want ; 

More  than  all  in  Thee  I  find : 
Raise  the  fallen,  cheer  the  faint, 

Heal  the  sick,  and  lead  the  blind. 
Just  and  holy  is  Thy  name ; 

I  am  all  unrighteousness : 
False  and  full  of  sin  I  am  ; 

Thou  art  full  of  truth  and  grace. 

Plenteous  grace  with  Thee  is  found, 

Grace  to  cover  all  my  sin  ; 
Let  the  healing  streams  abound, 

Make  and  keep  me  pure  within. 
Thou  of  life  the  fountain  art ; 

Freely  let  me  take  of  Thee  : 
Spring  Thou  up  within  my  heart, 

Rise  to  all  eternity  ! 


44  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

This  was  Finney's  last  song,  sung  by  him  the  day  before  his 
death.  The  hymn  has  brought  comfort  to  innumerable  death- 
beds. 

Just  before  the  battle  of  Chickamauga  a  drummer-boy 
dreamed  that  he  had  gone  home  and  was  greeted  by  his  dear 
mother  and  sister.  He  awoke  very  sad,  because  both  mother 
and  sister  were  dead,  and  he  had  no  home.  He  told  the  little 
story  to  the  chaplain  before  he  went  into  the  battle.  He  was 
left  on  the  field  with  the  dead  and  dying,  and  in  the  quiet  of 
the  night  his  voice  was  heard  singing  "Jesus,  Lover  of  my 
soul."     No  one  dared  go  to  him.     When  he  reached  the  lines, 

"  Leave,  ah  !  leave  me  not  alone, 
Still  support  and  comfort  me," 

his  voice  grew  silent ;  and  the  next  day  his  body  was  found 
leaning  against  a  stump,  beside  his  drum.  He  had  indeed 
gone  home  to  his  mother  and  sister. 

Another  beautiful  story  is  told  of  this  hymn  in  connection 
with  the  Civil  War.  In  a  company  of  old  soldiers,  from  the 
Union  and  Confederate  armies,  a  former  Confederate  was  tell- 
ing how  he  had  been  detailed  one  night  to  shoot  a  certain  ex- 
posed sentry  of  the  opposing  army.  He  had  crept  near  and 
was  about  to  fire  with  deadly  aim  when  the  sentry  began  to 
sing,  "  Jesus,  Lover  of  my  soul."     He  came  to  the  words, 

"  Cover  my  defenceless  head 
"With  the  shadow  of  Thy  wing." 

The  hidden  Confederate  lowered  his  gun  and  stole  away.  "  I 
can't  kill  that  man,"  said  he,  "  though  he  were  ten  times  my 
enemy." 

In  the  company  was  an  old  Union  soldier  who  asked  quickly, 
"  Was  that  in  the  Atlanta  campaign  of  '64  ?  " 


Jesus,  Lover  of  My  Soul  45 

"Yes." 

"  Then  I  was  the  Union  sentry !  " 

And  he  went  on  to  tell  how,  on  that  night,  knowing  the 
danger  of  his  post,  he  had  been  greatly  depressed,  and,  to  keep 
up  his  courage,  had  begun  to  hum  that  hymn.  By  the  time  he 
had  finished,  he  was  entirely  calm  and  fearless.  Through  the 
song  God  had  spoken  to  two  souls. 


"  Nearer,  My  God,  to  Thee  " 
Sarah   Flower  Adams 

This  is  the  greatest  hymn  ever  written  by  a  woman.  Its 
author  was  the  daughter  of  Benjamin  Flower,  an  Englishman 
whose  liberal  views  on  politics  caused  his  imprisonment  in  the 
Newgate  Prison,  London,  for  six  months.  While  there,  he  was 
visited  by  Miss  Eliza  Gould,  whose  views  were  like  his.  After 
his  release  she  married  him,  and  they  had  two  daughters, 
Eliza  and  Sarah. 

It  was  Sarah  who  wrote  the  great  hymn.  She  was  born  at 
Harlow,  February  22,  1805.  The  mother  died  five  years  later 
of  consumption,  and  both  girls  inherited  her  delicate  constitu- 
tion. Eliza  was  musical,  and  often  wrote  music  for  her  sister's 
songs.  Sarah,  beautiful  and  vivacious,  was  fond  of  acting, 
and  had  an  idea  that  the  drama  could  be  made  to  teach  great 
truths  as  well  as  the  pulpit.  Fortunately,  however,  her  frail 
body  compelled  her  to  give  up  the  actor's  career. 

Miss  Flower  married,  in  1834,  a  civil  engineer,  JohnBrydges 
Adams,  and  they  made  their  home  in  London.  Her  beauty, 
her  gay  manners,  her  bright  conversation,  and  her  exalted 
character,  made  a  deep  impression  upon  many. 

Eliza,  the  elder  sister,  became  weakened  in  caring  for  Sarah 
through  a  long  illness,  and  Sarah's  death,  in  turn,  was  hastened, 
doubtless,  by  her  care  for  Eliza  in  her  last  sickness.  The  two 
passed  away  within  a  short  interval,  the  elder  in  December, 
1846,  and  Sarah  on  August  14,  1848.  The  hymns  sung  at 
both  funerals  were  by  Sarah,  with  music  by  Eliza. 

The  great  hymn  was  written  in  1840,  and  was  first  published 

46 


Nearer,  My  God,  to  Thee  47 

the  following  year  in  a  book,  "  Hymns  and  Anthems,"  pre- 
pared by  Mrs.  Adams's  pastor,  Rev.  William  Johnson  Fox,  for 
the  use  of  his  congregation.  In  1844  Rev.  James  Freeman 
Clarke  introduced  the  hymn  in  America,  but  it  did  not  gain 
genuine  popularity  until,  in  1856,  there  was  published  the 
beautiful  tune,  ''Bethany,"  which  Lowell  Mason  wrote  for  it. 
In  the  Boston  Peace  Jubilee  of  1872  the  hymn  was  sung  to  this 
tune  by  nearly  fifty  thousand  voices,  and  the  venerable  com- 
poser himself  was  in  the  audience. 

Many  changes  have  been  made  in  the  immortal  hymn  by  the 
editors  of  hymn-books,  but  it  is  best  to  learn  it  and  use  it  just 
as  Mrs.  Adams  wrote  it,  which  is  as  follows  : — 

Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee  ! 
E'en  though  it  be  a  cross 

That  raiseth  me ; 
Still  all  my  song  would  be, 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee. 

Nearer  to  Thee ! 

Though  like  the  wanderer, 

The  sun  gone  down, 
Darkness  be  over  me, 

My  rest  a  stone  ; 
Yet  in  my  dreams  I'd  be 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee  ! 

There  let  the  way  appear, 

Steps  unto  heaven  : 
All  that  Thou  send'st  to  me 

In  mercy  given  ; 
Angels  to  beckon  me 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee  ! 


48  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

Then,  with  my  waking  thoughts 

Bright  with  Thy  praise, 
Out  of  my  stony  griefs 

Bethel  I'll  raise; 
So  by  my  woes  to  be 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee ! 

Or  if  on  joyful  wing 

Cleaving  the  sky, 
Sun,  moon,  and  stars  forgot, 

Upwards  I  fly, 
Still  all  my  song  shall  be, 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee  ! 

Some  interesting  incidents  are  connected  with  this  hymn. 
In  187 1,  three  eminent  theologians,  Professors  Hitchcock, 
Smith,  and  Park,  were  traveling  in  Palestine,  when  they  heard 
the  strains  of  "Bethany."  Drawing  near,  to  their  amazement 
they  saw  fifty  Syrian  students  standing  under  some  trees  in  a 
circle,  and  singing  in  Arabic  "Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee." 
Professor  Hitchcock,  speaking  afterward  of  the  event,  said  that 
the  singing  of  that  Christian  hymn  by  those  Syrian  youths 
moved  him  to  tears,  and  affected  him  more  than  any  singing  he 
had  ever  heard  before. 

During  the  Johnstown  flood,  May  31,  1889,  a  railroad  train 
rushed  into  the  swirling  waters.  One  car  was  turned  on  end, 
and  in  it  was  imprisoned,  beyond  the  hope  of  rescue,  a  woman 
on  her  way  to  be  a  missionary  in  the  far  East. 

She  spoke  to  the  awe-struck  multitude,  gazing  helpless  at  the 
tragedy.  Then  she  prayed,  and  finally  she  sung  "  Nearer,  my 
God,  to  Thee,"  in  which  she  was  joined  by  the  sorrowing, 
sympathizing  throng.  As  she  sung,  she  passed  away,  coming 
nearer  indeed  to  the  God  of  her  worship. 


Nearer,  My  God,  to  Thee  49 

But  the  most  inspiring  of  all  the  associations  of  this  hymn  is 
that  connected  with  the  death  of  the  martyred  McKinley. 
Dr.  M.  D.  Mann,  the  physician,  heard  him  murmur  among  his 
last  words,  "  'Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee,  E'en  though  it  be  a 
cross,'  has  been  my  constant  prayer."  On  the  day  of  his 
burial,  Thursday,  September  19,  1901,  at  half-past  three,  in  all 
our  cities  and  villages  and  wherever  the  daily  press  made  way, 
by  previous  arrangement  the  people  paused  in  their  occupa- 
tions. Trolley  cars  stopped.  The  streets  were  hushed.  Men 
stood  with  bared  heads.  There  were  five  minutes  of  silence 
over  the  land.  In  Union  and  Madison  Squares,  New  York 
City,  following  this  impressive  silence,  bands  played  "Nearer, 
my  God,  to  Thee,"  and  the  same  hymn  was  used  in  countless 
churches  at  memorial  services.  Among  others,  it  was  used  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  at  the  memorial  service  celebrated  by  com- 
mand of  King  Edward. 


"  Just  as  I  Am  " 
Charlotte  Elliott 

Probably  no  hymn  ever  written  has  brought  so  many  souls 
to  Christ. 

It  was  written  by  Charlotte  Elliott,  who  was  born  in  London, 
England,  in  1789.  She  lived  to  be  an  old  lady  of  82,  but  all 
her  life  she  was  an  invalid.  Her  suffering  made  Miss  Elliott 
most  thoughtful  for  others  in  distress,  and  most  of  her  hymns 
were  written  with  such  persons  in  mind.  Did  not  God  have 
that  purpose  in  permitting  her  to  become  sick  ? 

This  very  hymn  was  written  when  she  was  in  great  pain  and 
trouble,  and  it  must  have  helped  her  to  take  to  Christ  her  poor, 
worn-out  body  and  find  the  help  she  so  much  needed. 

The  hymn  first  appeared  in  The  Christian  Remembrancer, 
of  which  Miss  Elliott  became  editor  in  1836.  Soon  after  it 
was  published  a  lady,  who  admired  it  greatly,  had  it  printed  in 
leaflet  form,  and  widely  distributed.  Miss  Elliott  was  very 
sick,  and  one  day  her  physician  gave  her  one  of  these  leaflets 
to  comfort  her,  not  knowing  that  she  was  the  author.  It  is  said 
that  the  sufferer  wept  tears  of  grateful  joy  when  she  saw  this 
evidence  that  God  had  so  used  her  efforts,  though  put  forth  from 
a  feeble  body. 

The  hymn,  as  first  printed,  had  six  verses.  The  seventh 
stanza  was  added  later,  but  certainly  no  one  would  be  willing 
to  lose  it.  Here  is  the  hymn  entire, — and  will  you  not  wish  to 
learn  all  of  it  ? — 

5o 


Just  As  I  Am  51 

Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea, 
But  that  Thy  blood  was  shed  for  me, 
And  that  Thou  bidst  me  come  to  Thee, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  and  waiting  not 
To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot, 
To  Thee,  whose  blood  can  cleanse  each  spot, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  though  tossed  about 
With  many  a  conflict,  many  a  doubt, 
Fightings  and  fears  within,  without, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  poor,  wretched,  blind ; 
Sight,  riches,  healing  of  the  mind, 
Yea,  all  I  need  in  Thee  to  find, 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  Thou  wilt  receive, 

Wilt  welcome,  pardon,  cleanse,  relieve, 

Because  Thy  promise  I  believe, 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  (Thy  love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down), 
Now  to  be  Thine,  yea,  Thine  alone, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  of  that  free  love 

The  breadth,  length,  depth,  and  height  to  prove, 

Here  for  a  season,  then  above, 

O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Miss  Elliott's  brother,  a  clergyman,  Rev.  H.  V.  Elliott,  once 
said,  "  In  the  course  of  a  long  ministry,  I  hope  I  have  been 
permitted  to  see  some  fruit  of  my  labors,  but  I  feel  far  more 


52  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

has  been  done  by  a  single  hymn  of  my  sister's."  After  the 
author's  death  more  than  a  thousand  letters  were  found  among 
her  papers,  giving  thanks  for  blessings  received  from  "Just  as 
I  am. ' '  Moody  once  declared  that  no  hymn  has  done  so  much 
good,  or  touched  so  many  hearts. 

For  example,  in  the  summer  of  1895,  the  young  people  of 
the  Lenox  Road  Methodist  Church  of  Brooklyn  sung  this  hymn 
in  their  service,  and,  as  it  happened,  the  hymn  was  sung  also 
in  the  church  service  following.  A  few  doors  away  lay  a 
young  lawyer  in  his  room.  All  windows  were  open,  and  he 
heard  the  hymn  twice  repeated.  At  the  time  he  was  in  the 
midst  of  a  fierce  struggle  with  conscience,  and  the  hymn  de- 
termined him  to  be  a  Christian. 

One  day  Mr.  Wanamaker  told  his  great  Sunday  school  in 
Philadelphia  that  one  of  their  number,  a  young  man  who  had 
been  present  only  a  week  before,  lay  dying,  and  had  asked  the 
school  to  sing  in  his  behalf  "  Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea." 
The  hymn  was  sung  with  so  much  feeling,  and  especially  the 
third  stanza,  that  a  visitor  who  was  present  was  led  to  Christ, 
being  freed  on  the  spot  from  "  many  a  conflict,  many  a  doubt." 

Once  John  B.  Gough  was  placed  in  a  pew  with  a  man  so  re- 
pulsive that  he  moved  to  the  farther  end  of  the  seat.  The  con- 
gregation began  to  sing  "Just  as  I  am,"  and  the  man  joined 
in  so  heartily  that  Mr.  Gough  decided  that  he  could  not  be  so 
disagreeable  after  all,  and  moved  up  nearer,  though  the  man's 
singing  l '  was  positively  awful. ' '  At  the  end  of  the  third  stanza, 
while  the  organ  was  playing  the  interlude,  the  man  leaned  to- 
ward Mr.  Gough  and  whispered,  "Won't  you  please  give  me 
the  first  line  of  the  next  verse  ? ' '     Mr.  Gough  repeated, 

"  Just  as  I  am,  poor,  wretched,  blind," 

and  the  man  replied,  "That's  it ;  and  I  am  blind — God  help 


Just  As  I  Am  53 

me;  and  I  am  a  paralytic."  Then  as  he  tried  with  his  poor, 
twitching  lips  to  make  music  of  the  glorious  words,  Mr.  Gough 
thought  that  never  in  his  life  had  he  heard  music  so  beautiful 
as  the  blundering  singing  of  that  hymn  by  the  paralytic. 


"  Rock  of  Ages  " 
Augustus  M.  Toplady 

"Rock  of  Ages"  and  "Jesus,  Lover  of  my  soul/'  are  the 
two  favorite  hymns  of  most  Christians. 

The  author  of  "Rock  of  Ages,"  Augustus  Montague  Top- 
lady,  was  an  Englishman,  and  was  born  November  4,  1740. 
His  father,  Major  Toplady,  died  in  the  siege  of  Cartagena  in 
Colombia,  South  America,  while  his  boy  was  only  a  few  months 
old.  Young  Toplady  was  converted  when  on  a  visit  to  Ireland 
by  an  ignorant  Methodist  preacher,  a  layman,  who  was  preach- 
ing in  a  barn. 

His  mind  was  vigorous,  but  his  body  was  weak,  and  soon 
consumption  seized  upon  him.  He  fought  it  for  two  years 
before  it  conquered,  and  it  was  during  this  period  that  he  wrote 
his  immortal  hymn.  It  appeared  first  in  the  Gospel  Magazine 
for  March,  1776 — a  magazine  of  which  he  was  the  editor.  It 
was  in  the  midst  of  an  article  in  which  he  tried  to  figure  out 
the  number  of  a  man's  sins,  and  then  broke  into  this  hymn, 
which  sets  forth  our  only  remedy  for  sin  :  — 

Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee  ! 
Let  the  water  and  the  blood 
From  Thy  riven  side  which  flowed, 
Be  of  sin  the  double  cure, 
Cleanse  me  from  its  guilt  and  power. 

Not  the  labor  of  my  hands 
Can  fulfil  Thy  law's  demands  \ 

54 


Rock  of  Ages  5J 

Could  my  zeal  no  respite  know, 
Could  my  tears  forever  flow, 
All  for  sin  could  not  atone ; 
Thou  must  save,  and  Thou  alone. 

Nothing  in  my  hand  I  bring ; 
Simply  to  Thy  cross  I  cling ; 
Naked,  come  to  Thee  for  dress ; 
Helpless,  look  to  Thee  for  grace ; 
Foul,  I  to  the  Fountain  fly ; 
Wash  me,  Saviour,  or  I  die. 

While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When  my  eyestrings  break  in  death, 
When  I  soar  through  tracts  unknown, 
See  Thee  on  Thy  judgment  throne, — 
Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee  ! 

Toplady's  title  for  the  hymn  was  "  A  living  and  dying  prayer 
for  the  holiest  believer  in  the  world. ' '  The  title  fitly  expressed 
the  triumphant  faith  in  which  he  himself  passed  away  on 
August  ii,  1778,  saying,  "My  prayers  are  all  converted  into 
praise."  He  was  only  thirty-eight  years  old.  The  hymn  was 
actually  used  as  a  dying  prayer  by  Prince  Albert,  the  beloved 
husband  of  Queen  Victoria.  It  was  sung  in  Constantinople  by 
the  Armenians  during  the  fearful  massacre.  When  the  steam- 
ship London  went  down  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay  in  1866,  the  last 
man  to  escape  from  the  ill-fated  vessel  heard  the  remaining 
passengers  singing  this  hymn  : 

Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee. 

The  hymn  was  an  especial  favorite  with  Gladstone,  who  was 
often  heard  humming  it  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  who 


56  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

translated  it  into  Latin,  Greek,  and  Italian.  His  Latin  trans- 
lation is  one  of  great  beauty.  Major-General  Stuart,  the 
famous  Confederate  cavalry  officer,  sung  this  hymn  as  he  lay 
dying  after  the  Battle  of  the  Wilderness.  Of  many  other 
death-beds  this  hymn  has  been  the  solace  and  the  crown. 

The  story  is  told  of  a  Chinese  woman  who,  for  the  purpose 
of  "making  merit"  for  herself  with  her  heathen  gods,  had  dug 
a  well  twenty-five  feet  deep  and  fifteen  in  diameter.  She  was 
converted,  and  a  traveller  speaks  of  meeting  her  when  she  had 
reached  the  age  of  eighty.  She  was  bent  with  age,  but  she 
stretched  out  her  crippled  hands  toward  her  visitor,  and  began 
to  sing : 

Nothing  in  my  hand  I  bring, 

Simply  to  Thy  cross  I  cling. 

The  noblest  incident  connected  with  this  hymn  is  related  of 
the  celebration  of  the  fiftieth  year  of  the  reign  of  Queen  Vic- 
toria. On  this  occasion  there  came  an  embassy  from  Queen 
Ranavalona  III.,  of  Madagascar,  and  in  the  company  was  a 
venerable  Hova,  who  expressed  the  desires  of  his  people  for  the 
prosperity  of  the  Queen,  and  then  asked  permission  to  sing. 
It  was  expected  that  he  would  render  some  heathen  song,  but 
to  every  one's  amazement  he  burst  forth  with 

Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee. 

It  was  a  striking  proof  of  the  power  of  Christian  missions. 

"Rock  of  Ages  "  was  often  sung  by  the  Armenians  at  Con- 
stantinople during  the  terrible  massacres. 

The  hymn  is  given  as  Toplady  wrote  it,  and  it  will  be  seen 
that  it  is  often  mutilated  in  our  hymn-books.  The  second  line 
of  the  last  stanza  is  generally  written : 


Rock  of  Ages  57 

When  my  eyelids  close  in  death. 

Toplady's  line  refers  to  an  old  belief  that,  when  a  person  dies, 
the  "  eyestrings  "  snap. 

As  to  the  thought  of  "Rock  of  Ages,"  it  probably  sprung 
from  the  marginal  translation  of  Isa.  26 :  4 :  ''In  the  Lord 
Jehovah  is  the  rock  of  ages,"  but  Toplady  doubtless  combined 
that  with  such  passages  as  "I  will  put  thee  in  a  cleft  of  the 
rock"  (Exod.  33:  22),  "Enter  into  the  rock"  (Isa.  2:  10), 
and  "  They  drank  of  that  spiritual  Rock  that  followed  them  : 
and  that  Rock  was  Christ  "  (1  Cor.  10  :  4). 

Toplady  wrote  133  poems  and  hymns,  but  nearly  all  are 
forgotten  except  this.  One  other,  however,  is  a  hymn  of  great 
beauty,  and  is  cherished  by  many  Christians : — 

Inspirer  and  Hearer  of  prayer, 

Thou  Shepherd  and  Guardian  of  Thine, 
My  all  to  Thy  covenant  care 

I  sleeping  and  waking  resign  ; 
If  Thou  art  my  shield  and  my  sun, 

The  night  is  no  darkness  to  me ; 
And  fast  as  my  moments  roll  on 

They  bring  me  but  nearer  to  Thee. 


"  Take  My  Life  " 
Frances  Ridley  Havergal 

Frances  Ridley  Havergal  wrote  so  many  helpful  books, 
and  lived  a  life  so  earnest  and  devoted,  that  she  has  had  a 
very  deep  influence  over  the  hearts  of  Christians.  Of  all  her 
poems,  the  one  we  are  to  learn  this  month  meant  the  most  to 
her,  and  has  meant  the  most  to  the  world. 

Miss  Havergal  was  born  in  Astley,  England,  December  14, 
1836.  Her  father  was  an  Episcopal  clergyman,  a  skilful  com- 
poser of  music,  and  himself  a  hymn-writer.  She  was  baptized 
by  another  hymn-writer,  Rev.  John  Cawood,  who  wrote 
"  Hark  !  what  mean  those  holy  voices  ?  " 

Studying  in  England  and  Germany,  Miss  Havergal  became  a 
good  Hebrew  and  Greek  scholar,  and  knew  several  modern 
languages.  She  became  also  a  brilliant  singer  and  piano- 
player,  and  a  glittering  career  in  society  was  open  before  her. 
But  she  considered  all  her  talents  to  be  only  loans  from  the 
Lord,  to  be  used  in  His  service.  She  would  not  even  sing,  ex- 
cept sacred  music,  and  for  the  purpose  of  winning  souls.  She 
lavished  her  strength  upon  work  for  the  Master,  teaching  in 
Sunday  schools,  writing  letters,  writing  many  leaflets  and 
books,  conducting  religious  meetings,  and  making  public  ad- 
dresses. She  was  often  sick,  and  her  life  was  short,  but  she 
accomplished  a  wonderful  amount  of  noble  work. 

Miss  Havergal' s  beautiful  consecration  hymn  was  written  on 
February  4,  1874.     Here  it  is. 


Take  My  Life  59 

Take  my  life,  and  let  it  be 
Consecrated,  Lord,  to  Thee. 
Take  my  moments  and  my  days  ; 
Let  them  flow  in  ceaseless  praise. 

Take  my  hands,  and  let  them  move 
At  the  impulse  of  Thy  love. 
Take  my  feet,  and  let  them  be 
Swift  and  beautiful  for  Thee. 

Take  my  voice,  and  let  me  sing, 
Always,  only,  for  my  King. 
Take  my  lips,  and  let  them  be 
Filled  with  messages  from  Thee. 

Take  my  silver  and  my  gold ; 
Not  a  mite  would  I  withhold. 
Take  my  intellect,  and  use 
Every  power  as  Thou  shalt  choose. 

Take  my  will,  and  make  it  Thine ; 
It  shall  be  no  longer  mine. 
Take  my  heart,  it  is  Thine  own ; 
It  shall  be  Thy  royal  throne. 

Take  my  love ;  my  Lord,  I  pour 
At  Thy  feet  its  treasure- store. 
Take  myself,  and  I  will  be 
Ever,  only,  all  for  Thee. 

At  the  close  of  1873  Miss  Havergal  came  to  long  for  a 
deeper  knowledge  of  God.  On  Sunday,  December  2,  of  that 
year  she  was  brought  to  see,  as  by  a  flash  of  light,  that  she 
could  not  have  the  full  blessedness  of  a  Christian  without  a  full 
surrender  to  Christ. 

On  the  first  of  February,  1874,  Miss  Havergal  was  visiting 
in   a  home  where   there  were  ten  persons,  some  of  them  not 


60  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

converted,  some  of  them  Christians  but  not  very  happy  ones. 
A  great  longing  seized  upon  Miss  Havergal  that  all  of  these 
might,  before  she  left,  come  to  know  her  Saviour  as  joyfully  as 
she  had  just  come  to  know  Him.  That  prayer  was  granted, 
and  before  she  left  the  house.  On  the  last  night  of  her  stay, 
February  4,  she  was  too  happy  to  sleep,  and  spent  the  night 
writing  this  hymn,  closing  with  the  triumphant  line,  "  Ever, 
only,  ALL  for  Thee!  " 

Miss  Havergal  made  the  hymn  a  standard  for  her  own  liv- 
ing. Years  afterward  she  wrote  in  a  letter,  "  I  had  a  great 
time  early  this  morning  renewing  the  never-regretted  consecra- 
tion." Then  she  went  on  to  tell  how  she  found  she  had  really 
made  her  own  all  but  the  eleventh  couplet,  about  love ;  she 
felt  that  she  had  not  given  Christ  her  love  as  she  wanted  to,  and 
she  made  that  the  object  of  her  morning  consecration. 

Sometimes  the  earnest  worker  would  conduct  consecration 
meetings,  and  there  is  an  account  of  one  such  meeting  in  par- 
ticular, at  the  close  of  which  she  gave  each  person  present  a 
card  bearing  the  words  of  the  hymn,  and  asked  them  to  take 
the  cards  home,  pray  over  them,  and  then,  if  they  could  make 
them  their  own,  sign  them  on  their  knees. 

This  gifted  and  truly  consecrated  woman  died  in  Wales  on 
June  3,  1879,  at  the  age  of  forty-three.  She  was  buried  at 
Astley,  and  on  her  tombstone  is  engraved,  as  she  herself 
wished,  her  favorite  text :  "  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  His 
Son  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin." 


"My  Faith  Looks  Up  to  Thee" 
Ray  Palmer 

This  is  probably  the  greatest  hymn  written  by  an  American. 
Its  author,  Ray  Palmer,  was  the  son  of  a  judge,  Hon.  Thomas 
Palmer,  and  was  born  at  Little  Compton,  R.  I.,  on  November 
12,  1808.  He  became  a  clerk  in  a  Boston  dry-goods  store,  a 
student  at  Phillips  Academy  and  at  Yale,  a  teacher  in  New 
York  and  New  Haven,  pastor  of  several  churches,  and  corre- 
sponding secretary  of  the  American  Congregational  Union. 

In  1830,  immediately  after  his  graduation  from  Yale,  when 
Mr.  Palmer  was  teaching  in  New  York,  he  wrote  his  great 
hymn.     He  was  then  a  young  man  of  twenty-two. 

"  The  words  of  the  hymn,"  he  afterwards  said,  "  were  born 
of  my  own  soul."  He  was  reading,  in  the  quiet  of  his  own 
room,  a  brief  German  poem  of  only  two  stanzas,  picturing  a 
suppliant  before  the  cross.  Touched  by  the  lines,  he  trans- 
lated them  and  added  four  stanzas  of  his  own — the  immortal 
hymn : — 

My  faith  looks  up  to  Thee, 
Thou  Lamb  of  Calvary, 

Saviour  divine ; 
Now  hear  me  while  I  pray, 
Take  all  my  guilt  away, 
O  let  me  from  this  day 

Be  wholly  Thine. 

May  Thy  rich  grace  impart 
Strength  to  my  fainting  heart, 
My  zeal  inspire ; 
61 


62  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

As  Thou  hast  died  for  me, 
O  may  my  love  to  Thee 
Pure,  warm,  and  changeless  be, 
A  living  fire. 

While  life's  dark  maze  I  tread, 
And  griefs  around  me  spread, 

Be  Thou  my  Guide  j 
Bid  darkness  turn  to  day, 
Wipe  sorrow's  tears  away, 
Nor  let  me  ever  stray 

From  Thee  aside. 

When  ends  life's  transient  dream, 
When  death's  cold,  sullen  stream 

Shall  o'er  me  roll, 
Blest  Saviour,  then,  in  love, 
Fear  and  distrust  remove ; 
O  bear  me  safe  above, 

A  ransomed  soul. 

Dr.  Palmer  afterward  said  that  when  he  was  writing  the 
last  line,  "A  ransomed  soul,"  "  the  thought  that  the  whole 
work  of  redemption  and  salvation  was  involved  in  those  words, 
and  suggested  the  theme  of  eternal  praises,  moved  the  writer 
to  a  degree  of  emotion  that  brought  abundant  tears." 

The  hymn  was  copied  into  a  little  morocco -covered  book, 
which  Mr.  Palmer  carried  in  his  pocket,  reading  the  verses  in 
his  hours  of  communion  with  the  Father.  Its  use  as  a  hymn 
is  due  to  a  chance  meeting  of  Mr.  Palmer  on  a  Boston  street 
with  Lowell  Mason,  the  famous  musician.  He  asked  Mr. 
Palmer  for  a  hymn  which  he  might  use  in  "  Spiritual  Songs  for 
Social  Worship, ' '  which  he  was  then  preparing,  and  a  copy  of 
"  My  faith  looks  up  to  Thee,"  was  at  once  made  out  in  a 
near-by  store.  Meeting  the  author  on  the  street  a  few  days 
later,  Mr.  Mason  exclaimed,  "You  may  live  many  years  and 


My  Faith  Looks  Up  to  Thee  63 

do  many  good  things,  but  I  think  you  will  be  best  known  to 
posterity  as  the  author  of  *  My  faith  looks  up  to  Thee. '  ' ' 

Of  this  incident  Prof.  Austin  Phelps  once  wrote  :  "  One  of 
those  fleeting  conjunctions  of  circumstances  and  men  !  The 
doctor  of  music  and  future  doctor  of  theology  are  thrown  to- 
gether in  the  roaring  thoroughfare  of  commerce  for  a  brief  in- 
terview, scarcely  more  than  enough  for  a  morning  salutation ; 
and  the  sequence  is  the  publication  of  a  Christian  lyric  which 
is  to  be  sung  around  the  world."  The  tune  which  Mason 
composed  is  the  well-known  and  beautiful  "Olivet,"  to  which 
"  My  faith  looks  up  to  Thee  "  has  always  been  sung. 

The  American  publication  was  in  1832.  In  1842  the  hymn 
was  introduced  into  Great  Britain,  and  became  very  popular 
there.  Indeed,  it  was  not  till  it  had  received  this  approval 
over  the  sea  that  it  became  widely  known  in  America. 

This  was  Mr.  Palmer's  first  hymn,  and  he  afterward  wrote 
many  others,  among  them  "  Come  Jesus,  Redeemer,  abide 
Thou  with  me  "  and  "  Take  me,  O  my  Father,  take  me." 

His  translations  of  Latin  hymns  are  especially  fine,  the  best 
known  being  "  Jesus,  Thou  joy  of  loving  hearts, "  and  "  Come, 
Holy  Ghost,  in  love."  Mr.  Palmer's  own  favorite  among  his 
hymns  was  "  Jesus,  these  eyes  have  never  seen."  From  this 
hymn  were  taken  the  last  words  the  poet  uttered,  as,  the  day 
before  he  passed  away,  he  was  heard  faintly  murmuring  the 
stanza  : 

"  When  death  these  mortal  eyes  shall  seal 
And  still  this  throbbing  heart, 
The  rending  veil  shall  Thee  reveal 
All  glorious  as  Thou  art." 

Mr.  Palmer  was  a  man  of  gentle,  lovable  character,  a  saintly 
man,  but  a  man  of  strong  feeling  and  powerful  enthusiasms. 


64  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

The  most  touching  incident  connected  with  this  great  hymn 
is  perhaps  the  story  of  eight  young  Christian  soldiers  that  met 
for  prayer  in  a  tent  just  before  one  of  the  terrible  battles  of 
the  Wilderness  in  the  Civil  War.  They  desired  to  write  a 
statement  which  should  show  how  they  faced  death  and  go  as  a 
comforting  message  to  the  relatives  of  those  whom  the  coming 
battle  might  remove  from  earth.  They  decided  to  copy  this 
hymn  and  sign  it  as  their  sufficient  declaration  of  Christian 
faith,  and  they  did  so.  On  the  morrow  seven  of  these  brave 
Union  soldiers  died  for  their  country,  and  received  in  their  own 
experience  the  blessed  realization  of  the  hymn's  closing 
stanza : — 

When  ends  life's  transient  dream, 
When  death's  cold,  sullen  stream 

Shall  o'er  me  roll, 
Blest  Saviour,  then,  in  love, 
Fear  and  distrust  remove ; 
O  bear  me  safe  above, 

A  ransomed  soul. 


"  In  the  Cross  of  Christ  I  Glory " 
Sir  John  Bowring 

The  author  of  this  hymn  was  a  remarkable  man,  Sir  John 
Bowring,  who  was  born  at  Exeter,  England,  in  1792,  and  died 
in  1872.  He  was  a  very  learned  man.  He  could  speak  flu- 
ently twenty-two  languages,  and  converse  in  one  hundred.  He 
was  consul  at  Hong  Kong,  China,  when  the  terrible  Opium 
War  broke  out,  and  was  afterwards  governor  of  that  British 
colony.  He  was  twice  a  member  of  the  British  Parliament, 
and  he  made  treaties  for  Siam  and  Hawaii  with  six  European 
countries.  He  was  an  ardent  student  of  the  songs  of  Europe, 
and  published  several  volumes  of  translations  from  more  than 
twenty  languages.  His  little  book,  "Matins  and  Vespers,"  is 
full  of  beautiful  religious  poems.  He  was  a  sincere  Christian, 
and  lived  a  Christlike  life.  The  words  he  wrote,  "  In  the  Cross 
of  Christ  I  glory,"  were  no  unmeaning  words  to  him,  and  they 
are  fittingly  cut  in  bold  letters  upon  his  tombstone.  Sir  John 
Bowring  wrote  other  hymns  that  are  often  sung  by  all  Chris- 
tians. Some  of  these  are  :  "  God  is  love,  His  mercy  bright- 
ens," "  From  the  recesses  of  a  lowly  spirit,"  and  "  Watchman, 
tell  us  of  the  night."  The  last  was  written  in  1825,  and 
Bowring  did  not  know  that  it  was  used  as  a  hymn  till  ten  years 
later,  when  he  heard  it  sung  in  a  prayer-meeting  of  American 
missionaries  in  Asiatic  Turkey. 

But  of  course  Bowring' s  most  famous  hymn  is  the  fol- 
lowing : — 

65 


66  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

In  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glory, 

Towering  o'er  the  wrecks  of  time ; 

All  the  light  of  sacred  story 
Gathers  round  its  head  sublime. 

When  the  woes  of  life  o'ertake  me, 
Hopes  deceive  and  fears  annoy, 

Never  shall  the  cross  forsake  me ; 
Lo,  it  glows  with  peace  and  joy. 

When  the  sun  of  bliss  is  beaming 
Light  and  love  upon  my  way, 

From  the  cross  the  radiance  streaming 
Adds  new  lustre  to  the  day. 

Bane  and  blessing,  pain  and  pleasure, 
By  the  cross  are  sanctified  : 

Peace  is  there  that  knows  no  measure, 
Joys  that  through  all  time  abide. 

In  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glory : 

Towering  o'er  the  wrecks  of  time, 

All  the  light  of  sacred  story 
Gathers  round  its  head  sublime. 


One  incident  of  the  siege  of  Peking  during  the  Boxer  massa- 
cres shows  the  hold  this  hymn  has  upon  the  Christian  church. 
After  the  raising  of  the  siege,  and  the  terrible  strain  was  over, 
the  missionaries  gathered  in  the  Temple  of  Heaven, — that  mys. 
terious  shrine  which  no  one  but  the  Emperor  of  China  had  been 
allowed  to  visit,  and  he  only  once  a  year.  Around  the  royal 
marble  altar  in  that  heathen  temple  gathered  the  missionaries 
of  the  Cross,  and  sang  the  hymn  which  expressed  the  spirit 
that  had  sustained  them  during  those  dreadful  weeks  of  suffer- 
ing and  danger — "In  the  Cross  of  Christ  I  glory."     Let  us 


In  the  Cross  of  Christ  I  Glory  67 

never  again  sing  the  second  stanza  without  thinking  of  that  in- 
spiring scene: — 

"  When  the  woes  of  life  o'ertake  me, 
Hopes  deceive  and  fears  annoy, 
Never  shall  the  cross  forsake  me ; 
Lo,  it  glows  with  peace  and  joy." 


"  Sun  of  My  Soul  " 
John  Keble 

"  The  Christian  Year  "  is  one  of  the  world's  greatest  books 
of  poems.  Every  Christian  should  own  it  and  read  it.  It  was 
written  by  John  Keble,  and  it  is  a  series  of  poems  on  the  dif- 
ferent special  services  and  saints'  days  of  the  Episcopal  Church. 

The  book  was  published  in  1827,  and  within  twenty-six  years 
forty-three  editions  were  sold.  Before  the  writer  died,  he  had 
seen  ninety-six  editions,  and  more  than  half  a  million  copies 
had  been  sold.     It  is  still  sold  in  large  numbers. 

One  Sunday  four  travelers  chanced  to  meet  in  the  desert  of 
Mount  Sinai,  and  three  of  them  had  copies  of  "  The  Christian 
Year."  During  the  Crimean  War  a  daughter  of  Dr.  Chalmers 
sent  the  English  hospitals  a  whole  cargo  of  the  book. 

But  John  Keble  himself  almost  never  read  the  book,  and  never 
liked  to  talk  about  it  or  hear  it  praised.  He  did  not  want  to 
publish  it,  in  the  first  place,  and  at  last  consented  only  on  con- 
dition that  his  name  should  not  appear  in  it.  All  through  his 
life  he  was  modest  and  retiring. 

His  life  was  very  quiet.  He  was  born  on  April  25,  1792,  and 
died  March  29,  1866.  He  was  a  remarkable  scholar  at  Oxford, 
but  became  a  country  minister,  and  lived  most  of  his  life  in 
charge  of  a  village  church  at  Hursley, — a  church  which  he  re- 
built largely  out  of  the  profits  of  "  The  Christian  Year." 

He  was  a  most  dutiful  son  and  brother,  a  tender,  loving,  pure 
soul.  The  last  book  in  his  hands,  before  he  died,  was  a  hymn- 
book. 

The  two  poems  that  begin  "  The  Christian  Year  "  have  each 

68 


Sun  of  My  Soul  69 

given  us  a  famous  hymn.  One  is  a  morning  hymn,  beginning 
"New  every  morning  is  the  love,"  and  containing  the  famous 
stanza : — 

"  The  trivial  round,  the  common  task, 
Will  furnish  all  we  need  to  ask, 
Room  to  deny  ourselves,  a  road 
To  bring  us  daily  nearer  God." 

The  other  is  the  still  more  famous  evening  hymn.  The  poem 
from  which  it  is  taken  contains  fourteen  stanzas.  The  first 
stanza  is  a  description  of  the  sunset : — 

"  'Tis  gone,  that  bright  and  orbed  blaze, 
Fast  fading  from  our  wistful  gaze ; 
Yon  mantling  cloud  has  hid  from  sight 
The  last  faint  pulse  of  quivering  light." 

But  not  so  does  the  "  Sun  of  the  soul "  set  upon  our  vision. 
The  poet  goes  on  with  the  stanzas  which,  taken  here  and  there 
from  among  the  others,  make  up  our  hymn  :  — 

Sun  of  my  soul,  Thou  Saviour  dear, 
It  is  not  night  if  Thou  be  near ; 
O  may  no  earth-born  cloud  arise 
To  hide  Thee  from  Thy  servant's  eyes. 

When  the  soft  dews  of  kindly  sleep 
My  wearied  eyelids  gently  steep, 
Be  my  last  thought,  how  sweet  to  rest 
For  ever  on  my  Saviour's  breast. 

Abide  with  me  from  morn  till  eve, 
For  without  Thee  I  cannot  live ; 
Abide  with  rne  when  night  is  nigh, 
For  without  Thee  I  dare  not  die. 


70  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

If  some  poor  wandering  child  of  Thine 
Have  spurned  to-day  the  voice  divine, 
Now,  Lord,  the  gracious  work  begin 
Let  him  no  more  lie  down  in  sin. 

Watch  by  the  sick  ;  enrich  the  poor 
With  blessings  from  Thy  boundless  store ; 
Be  every  mourner's  sleep  to-night 
Like  infants'  slumbers,  pure  and  light. 

Come  near  and  bless  us  when  we  wake, 
Ere  through  the  world  our  way  we  take, 
Till  in  the  ocean  of  Thy  love 
We  lose  ourselves  in  heaven  above. 


"Amla  Soldier  of  the  Cross  %  " 

Isaac  Watts 

Isaac  Watts,  who  wrote  this  hymn,  was  the  father  of  hymn- 
writing  in  the  English  language,  and  the  author  of  many  of  our 
greatest  hymns. 

He  was  born  in  Southampton,  England,  July  17,  1674.  His 
father  was  not  a  member  of  the  state  church,  and  was  twice 
thrown  into  jail  for  opposing  it,  so  that  when  he  was  a  baby  his 
mother  often  carried  him  in  her  arms  to  visit  his  father  in 
prison. 

There  are  remarkable  stories  of  young  Isaac's  boyhood,  one 
of  them  declaring  that  he  begged  for  books  before  he  could 
talk  plainly,  and  others  asserting  that  he  began  Latin  at  the  age 
of  four  and  wrote  poetry  at  the  age  of  seven  ! 

He  became  a  minister  in  London.  He  was  a  little  man, 
only  about  five  feet  tall.  His  health  was  very  poor  all  his  life, 
but  his  church  took  loving  care  of  him,  for  he  was  greatly  liked. 
One  day,  when  Watts  was  sick,  Sir  Thomas  Abney  invited  him 
to  his  splendid  home  for  a  week.  He  became  so  dear  to  the 
household  that  they  kept  him  there  for  the  rest  of  his  life, — 
thirty- six  years  ! 

Besides  his  preaching,  Dr.  Watts  wrote  much.  He  was  a 
most  zealous  student  of  geography,  astronomy,  philosophy,  and 
theology,  and  he  wrote  books  on  all  these  themes.  His  great 
life-work,  however,  as  he  himself  saw,  was  his  hymn-writing. 

Early  in  life  he  became  wearied  with  the  versified  Psalms 
which  the  churches  used   and  set  out  to  compose  hymns  of  his 

7i 


72  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

own.  This  was  a  new  departure  and  met  with  persistent  opposi- 
tion, but  his  hymns  soon  became  widely  popular  in  nearly  all  the 
churches.  In  1707  Watts  published  his  famous  collection  of 
original  hymns,  which  he  entitled  "  Hymns  and  Spiritual 
Songs."  Only  two  or  three  copies  are  now  in  existence,  and 
one  of  these  sold  in  1901  for  $700.  There  were  210  hymns  in 
this  first  edition,  and  144  were  added  to  the  second  edition. 

The  greatest  of  Watts' s  hymns  is  probably  "  When  I  survey 
the  wondrous  cross,"  and  many — Matthew  Arnold  among  them 
— have  called  it  the  greatest  hymn  in  the  English  language. 
Among  the  other  great  hymns  of  this  splendid  Christian  poet 
are  "Jesus  shall  reign  where'er  the  sun,"  " Before  Jehovah's 
awful  throne,"  "  From  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies,"  "  Come, 
let  us  join  our  cheerful  songs,"  "There  is  a  land  of  pure  de- 
light," "Our  God  !  our  help  in  ages  past,"  "  Alas  !  and  did 
my  Saviour  bleed,"  "Come,  Holy  Spirit,  heavenly  Dove," 
"  Give  me  the  wings  of  faith  to  rise."  Many  of  Watts's  chil- 
dren's hymns  have  become  famous,  such  as  "  Let  dogs  delight 
to  bark  and  bite,"  "  How  doth  the  little  busy  bee,"  and  the 
sweet  cradle-song,  "  Hush,  my  dear,  lie  still  and  slumber." 
Watts  had  no  children  of  his  own,  but  well  did  he  know  the 
child's  heart. 

The  poet  died  November  25,  1748,  and  was  buried  at  Bun- 
hill  Fields,  London,  near  the  graves  of  John  Bunyan  and  Daniel 
Defoe.  He  is  to  be  ranked  with  Charles  Wesley,  the  two 
standing  together  at  the  summit  of  English  sacred  verse. 

The  noble  hymn  that  we  are  to  commit  to  memory  was  writ- 
ten by  Dr.  Watts  in  1709,  to  follow  a  sermon  on  1  Cor.  16 :  13, 
"  Watch  ye,  stand  fast  in  the  faith,  quit  you  like  men,  be 
strong."  It  is  sometimes  condensed  to  four  stanzas,  but  surely 
we  shall  not  wish  to  lose  the  last  two.     Here  it  is : — 


Am  I  a  Soldier  of  the  Cross  w?  73 

Am  I  a  soldier  of  the  cross, 

A  follower  of  the  Lamb  ? 
And  shall  I  fear  to  own  His  cause 

Or  blush  to  speak  His  name  ? 

Must  I  be  carried  to  the  skies 

On  flowery  beds  of  ease  ? 
While  others  fought  to  win  the  prize, 

And  sailed  through  bloody  seas  ? 

Are  there  no  foes  for  me  to  face  ? 

Must  I  not  stem  the  flood  ? 
Is  this  vile  world  a  friend  to  grace, 

To  help  me  on  to  God  ? 

Sure  I  must  fight,  if  I  would  reign  ; 

Increase  my  courage,  Lord  ! 
I'll  bear  the  toil,  endure  the  pain, 

Supported  by  Thy  word. 

Thy  saints,  in  all  this  glorious  war, 
Shall  conquer,  though  they  die  ; 

They  view  the  triumph  from  afar, 
And  seize  it  with  their  eye. 

When  that  illustrious  day  shall  rise, 

And  all  Thy  armies  shine 
In  robes  of  victory  through  the  skies, 

The  glory  shall  be  Thine. 


"  Stand  Up,  Stand  Up  For  Jesus  ! " 

George   Duffield 

In  the  spring  of  1858  there  was  a  great  revival  in  Philadel- 
phia, and  one  of  the  leaders  of  it  was  an  earnest,  manly  young 
minister,  not  quite  thirty  years  old,  named  Dudley  A.  Tyng. 
One  day  Mr.  Tyng's  arm  got  caught  in  some  machinery  and 
fearfully  torn.  The  arm  was  amputated,  but  in  a  few  days  the 
noble  young  man  died  of  his  injuries. 

As  he  was  dying  he  sent  a  message  to  the  ministers  who  had 
worked  with  him  in  the  revival,  and  the  message  began  with 
these  words  :  "  Tell  them,  'Let  us  all  stand  up  for  Jesus.'  " 
The  words  made  a  deep  impression.  They  were  quoted  often 
before  large  assemblies,  and  they  were  made  the  basis  of  more 
than  one  poem. 

Among  Mr.  Tyng's  most  devoted  friends  was  Rev.  George 
Duffield.  A  few  weeks  after  the  sad  accident  he  preached  in 
his  own  church  in  Philadelphia,  taking  as  his  text  Eph.  6  :  14, 
"Stand,  therefore,  having  your  loins  girt  about  with  truth, 
and  having  on  the  breastplate  of  righteousness  "  ;  and  closing 
his  sermon  with  the  hymn  which  he  had  just  written,  "  Stand 
up,  stand  up  for  Jesus."  The  song  at  once  became  popular, 
was  introduced  into  the  hymn-books,  and  became  an  especial 
favorite  of  the  soldiers  during  the  Civil  War. 

Here  is  the  hymn  just  as  Mr.  Duffield  wrote  it,  including  the 
two  stanzas  that  are  now  never  printed : — 

74 


Stand  Up,  Stand  Up  For  Jesus  !  75 

Stand  up,  stand  up  for  Jesus, 

Ye  soldiers  of  the  cross  ; 
Lift  high  His  royal  banner, 

It  must  not  suffer  loss  : 
From  victory  unto  victory 

His  army  He  shall  lead, 
Till  every  foe  is  vanquished, 

And  Christ  is  Lord  indeed. 


[Stand  up,  stand  up  for  Jesus, 

The  solemn  watchword  hear , 
If  while  ye  sleep  He  suffers, 

Away  with  shame  and  fear  ; 
Where'er  ye  meet  with  evil, 

Within  you  or  without, 
Charge  for  the  God  of  Battles, 

And  put  the  foe  to  rout.] 


Stand  up,  stand  up  for  Jesus, 

The  trumpet  call  obey  ; 
Forth  to  the  mighty  conflict 

In  this  His  glorious  day : 
Ye  that  are  men  now  serve  Him 

Against  unnumbered  foes ; 
Let  courage  rise  with  danger, 

And  strength  to  strength  oppose. 


Stand  up,  stand  up  for  Jesus, 

Stand  in  His  strength  alone. 
The  arm  of  flesh  will  fail  you, 

Ye  dare  not  trust  your  own  : 
Put  on  the  gospel  armor, 

Each  piece  put  on  with  prayer ; 
Where  duty  calls,  or  danger, 

Be  never  wanting  there. 


76  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

[Stand  up,  stand  up  for  Jesus, 

Each  soldier  to  his  post ; 
Close  up  the  broken  column, 

And  shout  through  all  the  host : 
Make  good  the  loss  so  heavy, 

In  those  that  still  remain, 
And  prove  to  all  around  you 

That  death  itself  is  gain.] 

Stand  up,  stand  up  for  Jesus, 

The  strife  will  not  be  long  ; 
This  day  the  noise  of  battle, 

The  next  the  victor's  song  : 
To  him  that  overcometh 

A  crown  of  life  shall  be  ; 
He  with  the  King  of  Glory 

Shall  reign  eternally. 

Mr.  Dumeld  was  the  father  of  a  poet,  Rev.  Samuel  W.  Duf- 
field.  He  was  a  Presbyterian,  and  during  his  long  life  (1818 
to  1888)  he  served  Christ  faithfully  in  many  churches ;  but 
probably  the  most  fruitful  of  all  his  labors  was  the  writing  of 
this  hymn,  which  has  inspired  so  many  to  speak  and  act  boldly 
for  their  Saviour. 

The  reference,  in  the  second  stanza,  to  the  disciples'  sleeping 
in  Gethsemane,  recalls  a  sermon  preached  from  that  passage  by 
Mr.  Tyng  during  the  revival,  not  long  before  his  death.  Note 
especially  also  the  sixth  line  of  stanza  four,  which  is  often 
changed  (foolishly)  to  "And,  watching  unto  prayer." 


"  Onward,  Christian  Soldiers  " 
Sabine  Baring-Gould 

This  stirring  poem  is  the  chief  marching  hymn  in  the  English 
language.  It  was  written  very  hastily  one  evening  by  a  re- 
markable man,  Rev.  Sabine  Baring-Gould,  then  curate  of  an 
Episcopal  church  at  Horbury,  Yorkshire,  England.  It  was  the 
day  before  the  Whitmonday  holiday,  in  1865.  The  children 
of  his  village  school  were  to  march  to  the  next  village  and  meet 
there  the  children  of  another  school.  No  good  song  could  be 
found  for  them  to  sing  while  marching,  and  it  was  to  meet  this 
emergency  that  the  hymn  was  written. 

It  had  originally  six  stanzas,  as  follows : 

Onward,  Christian  soldiers, 

Marching  as  to  war, 
With  the  cross  of  Jesus 

Going  on  before : 
Christ  the  Royal  Master 

Leads  against  the  foe ; 
Forward  into  battle, 

See,  His  banners  go. 

Onward,  Christian  soldiers, 

Marching  as  to  war, 
With  the  cross  of  Jesus 

Going  on  before. 

At  the  sign  of  triumph 

Satan's  host  doth  flee ; 
On  then,  Christian  soldiers, 

On  to  victory : 

77 


78  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

Hell's  foundations  quiver 
At  the  shout  of  praise ; 

Brothers,  lift  your  voices, 
Loud  your  anthems  raise. 

Onward,  etc. 

Like  a  mighty  army 

Moves  the  Church  of  God  ; 
Brothers,  we  are  treading 

Where  the  saints  have  trod ; 
We  are  not  divided, 

All  one  body  we, 
One  in  hope  and  doctrine, 

One  in  charity. 

Onward,  etc. 

What  the  saints  established 

That  I  hold  for  true, 
What  the  saints  believed 

That  believe  I  too. 
Long  as  earth  endureth 

Men  that  Faith  will  hold, — 
Kingdoms,  nations,  empires, 

In  destruction  rolled. 

Onward,  etc. 

Crowns  and  thrones  may  perish, 
Kingdoms  rise  and  wane, 

But  the  Church  of  Jesus 
Constant  will  remain ; 

Gates  of  hell  can  never 

'Gainst  that  Church  prevail ; 

We  have  Christ's  own  promise, 


And  that  cannot  fail. 
Onward,  etc. 


Onward,  Christian  Soldiers  79 

Onward,  then,  ye  people, 

Join  our  happy  throng, 
Blend  with  ours  your  voices 

In  the  triumph- song ; 
Glory,  laud,  and  honor 

Unto  Christ  the  King ; 
This  through  countless  ages 

Men  and  angels  sing. 

Onward,  etc. 

The  fourth  stanza  is  now  never  printed,  and  is  plainly  in- 
ferior to  the  others ;  the  second  stanza  is  rarely  seen. 

Very  soon  the  hymn  appeared  in  our  country,  and  the  mar- 
tial spirit  engendered  by  our  Civil  War  was,  as  Dr.  Benson 
thinks,  the  cause  of  its  immediate  and  great  popularity.  This 
popularity  was  augmented  by  the  splendid  tune  written  for  the 
hymn  in  1871  by  Arthur  S.  Sullivan,  the  tune  to  which  it  is 
universally  sung. 

Mr.  Baring-Gould  was  born  in  1834  (January  28),  and  is 
still  living,  being  rector  of  Lew  Trenchard,  Devonshire, — a 
"living"  within  the  gift  of  his  family,  to  which  he  presented 
himself  in  1881.  He  is  the  owner  of  3,000  acres  of  land,  in- 
herited through  three  centuries  of  ancestors.  He  holds  the  im- 
portant office  of  justice  of  the  peace  (more  important  in 
England  than  in  the  United  States). 

Mr.  Baring-Gould  is  one  of  the  most  versatile  and  industrious 
of  men.  His  "  Lives  of  the  Saints  "  is  in  fifteen  volumes.  His 
"  Curious  Myths  of  the  Middle  Ages  "  is  a  famous  work ;  so  is 
his  "Legends  of  the  Old  Testament."  He  has  written  a  large 
number  of  learned  books,  besides  many  devotional  writings  and 
volumes  of  sermons.  In  addition,  he  is  one  of  the  most  popu- 
lar of  English  novelists,  regularly  producing  one  novel  a  year. 
An  incomplete  list  of  his  works  that  lies  before  me  includes 


80  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

seventy-three  titles.  All  this  work  has  been  done  with  the  pen, 
without  the  aid  of  a  secretary,  and  Mr.  Baring-Gould  gives  as 
the  sufficient  secret  of  his  accomplishments  the  fact  that  when 
he  has  begun  a  task,  he  sticks  to  it  till  it  is  finished.  He  often 
does  his  best  work,  he  says,  when  he  feels  least  like  working, 
and  he  never  waits  for  "  inspiration,"  but  plunges  determinedly 
at  his  work. 

" Onward,  Christian  soldiers"  is  not  by  any  means  the  only 
famous  hymn  Mr.  Baring-Gould  has  written.  Others  from  his 
graceful  and  vigorous  pen  are  "Now  the  day  is  over,"  and 
"  Through  the  night  of  doubt  and  shadow." 


"  Awake,  My  Soul  " 
Bishop  Thomas  Ken 

The  first  great  hymn-writer  of  England  was  the  good  Bishop 
Thomas  Ken,  who  lived  during  the  times  of  Cromwell  and  the 
kings  that  followed  him.  He  was  born  in  1637,  and  died  in 
1 71 1,  after  a  long  and  troubled  life,  in  which  he  took  the  part 
of  a  hero. 

His  mother  died  when  he  was  a  child,  and  he  was  brought 
up  by  his  brother-in-law,  that  famous  and  pure- hearted  angler, 
Izaak  Walton.  He  went  to  school,  therefore,  at  Winchester, 
and  his  name  may  still  be  seen  there,  cut  in  one  of  the  stone 
pillars.     He  graduated  from  Oxford. 

In  1679,  the  wife  of  William  of  Orange,  the  niece  of  the 
English  king,  asked  for  a  chaplain,  and  Charles  II.  sent  Thomas 
Ken  to  the  Hague.  But  Ken  had  a  dispute  there,  because  he 
was  too  bold  in  rebuking  some  corruption  in  the  court,  and  he 
left  the  Hague  in  1680.  Then  Charles  made  him  one  of  his 
own  chaplains. 

Once  more  he  lived  in  Winchester,  and  in  1683  King  Charles 
came  there  and  asked  Ken  to  give  up  his  house  temporarily  for 
the  accommodation  of  a  certain  dissolute  woman  who  was  with 
the  King.  "  Not  for  the  King's  kingdom,"  was  Ken's  prompt 
and  unflinching  reply. 

Charles  had  sense  enough  to  see  that  such  a  man  was  worth 
while,  and  the  next  year,  when  the  bishopric  of  Bath  and  Wells 
became  vacant,  he  asked:  "Where  is  the  little  man  who 
wouldn't  give  poor  Nell  a  lodging  ?  Give  it  to  him."  And  so 
Thomas  Ken  became  a  bishop. 

81 


82  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

But  Charles  IL  died  soon  after,  and  the  uncompromising 
character  of  Ken  soon  got  him  into  trouble  again  with  the 
court.  In  1688  he  so  offended  James  II.  that  he  was  sent  to 
the  Tower,  but  he  was  soon  afterward  acquitted.  When 
William  III.  came  to  the  throne,  the  heroic  clergyman  was  de- 
posed from  his  bishopric,  and  though  Queen  Anne  received 
him  back  again  into  partial  favor,  and  gave  him  a  pension  of  a 
thousand  dollars  a  year,  he  was  not  restored  to  his  place  as  a 
bishop.  However,  the  last  years  of  his  life  were  peaceful,  and 
he  died  serenely. 

Bishop  Ken,  though  he  wrote  many  hymns,  and  wished  his 
hymns  to  live  on  the  lips  of  all  succeeding  generations,  penned 
only  three  hymns  that  are  now  in  common  use.  These  three, 
however,  are  great  compositions,  and  one  of  them,  the  "long- 
metre  Doxology,"  "  Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow," 
is  more  often  repeated  by  bodies  of  Christians  than  any  other 
set  of  words  except  the  Lord's  Prayer. 

The  other  two  hymns  that  have  become  famous  are  the 
morning  hymn  here  given,  and  the  evening  hymn  beginning, 
"  Glory  to  Thee,  my  God,  this  night."  The  four  lines  of  the 
immortal  Doxology  were  originally  printed  at  the  close  of  both 
the  morning  and  the  evening  hymns. 


Awake,  my  soul,  and  with  the  sun 
Thy  daily  stage  of  duty  run ; 
Shake  off  dull  sloth,  and  joyful  rise 
To  pay  thy  morning  sacrifice. 


Awake,  lift  up  thyself,  my  heart, 
And  with  the  angels  bear  thy  part, 
Who  all  night  long  unwearied  sing 
High  praises  to  the  eternal  King. 


Awake,  My  Soul  83 

Glory  to  Thee,  who  safe  hast  kept, 
And  hast  refreshed  me  while  I  slept ; 
Grant,  Lord,  when  I  from  death  shall  wake, 
I  may  of  endless  life  partake. 

Lord,  I  my  vows  to  Thee  renew  : 
Scatter  my  sins  as  morning  dew ; 
Guard  my  first  springs  of  thought  and  will, 
And  with  Thyself  my  spirit  fill. 

Direct,  control,  suggest  this  day, 

All  I  design,  or  do,  or  say  j 

That  all  my  powers,  with  all  their  might, 

In  Thy  sole  glory  may  unite. 


"Abide  with  Me" 
Henry  Francis  Lyte 

Henry  Francis  Lyte,  the  author  of  this,  one  of  the  greatest 
of  all  hymns,  was  born  June  i,  1793,  at  Ednam,  near  Kelso, 
Scotland,  where  also  was  born  the  poet  James  Thomson,  author 
of  "  The  Seasons."  He  was  early  left  an  orphan,  and  in  com- 
parative poverty.  Three  times  in  college  his  poems  won  him 
prizes.  At  first  he  intended  to  be  a  physician,  but  fortunately 
he  became  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England. 

One  day,  in  Cornwall,  a  brother  clergyman,  on  his  deathbed, 
sent  to  Lyte  that  the  young  man  might  give  him  spiritual  com- 
fort. To  their  mutual  grief,  they  found  themselves  groping 
for  the  light,  veritable  blind  guides.  Their  search  led  them 
into  confident  certainty,  and  Lyte  emerged  from  that  sick- 
room a  changed  man. 

It  was  this  experience,  it  is  said,  that  prompted  Lyte's  noble 
hymn,  "  Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken." 

He  took  charge,  in  1823,  of  a  seashore  parish,  Lower  Brix- 
ham,  in  Devonshire.  There,  amid  rough  seafaring  men,  he 
toiled  for  twenty-four  years,  till  his  death.  He  gathered  a 
Sunday  school  of  several  hundred  scholars,  and  trained  a  splen- 
did company  of  seventy  or  eighty  teachers.  For  this  church 
he  wrote  nearly  all  his  hymns. 

But  "  the  sword  was  too  sharp  for  the  scabbard."  Ever  of 
delicate  health  and  threatened  with  consumption,  he  became 
obliged  to  spend  his  winters  in  the  warmth  of  southern  Europe. 

Greatly  weakened,  on  the  fourth  of  September,  1847,  he  was 
about  to  leave  England  for  this  purpose  when  he  was  seized 

84 


Abide  With  Mc  85 

with  an  irresistible  desire  to  preach  to  his  people  once  more. 
Against  the  protest  of  his  amazed  friends,  he  accomplished  this 
purpose.  "  O  brethren,"  he  said,  as  he  entered  the  familiar 
pulpit  for  the  last  time,  "I  stand  here  among  you  to-day,  as 
alive  from  the  dead,  if  I  may  hope  to  impress  it  upon  you,  and 
induce  you  to  prepare  for  that  solemn  hour  which  must  come 
to  all,  by  a  timely  acquaintance  with  the  death  of  Christ." 
He  closed  his  service  by  administering  to  his  weeping  people 
the  Holy  Communion. 

That  evening  the  impulse  to  poetical  composition  came  upon 
him,  and  he  wrote  his  last  and  greatest  hymn  : — 

Abide  with  me  :   fast  falls  the  eventide ; 
The  darkness  deepens  ;  Lord,  with  me  abide  : 
When  other  helpers  fail,  and  comforts  flee, 
Help  of  the  helpless,  O  abide  with  me. 

Swift  to  its  close  ebbs  out  life's  little  day ; 
Earth's  joys  grow  dim,  its  glories  pass  away ; 
Change  and  decay  in  all  around  I  see ; 
O  Thou  who  changest  not,  abide  with  me. 

Not  a  brief  glance  I  beg,  a  passing  word  ; 
But,  as  Thou  dwell'st  with  Thy  disciples,  Lord, 
Familiar,  condescending,  patient,  free, 
Come,  not  to  sojourn,  but  abide,  with  me. 

Come  not  in  terrors,  as  the  King  of  kings ; 
But  kind  and  good,  with  healing  in  Thy  wings ; 
Tears  for  all  woes,  a  heart  for  every  plea ; 
Come,  Friend  of  sinners,  and  thus  'bide  with  me. 

Thou  on  my  head  in  early  youth  didst  smile ; 
And,  though  rebellious  and  perverse  meanwhile, 
Thou  hast  not  left  me,  oft  as  I  left  Thee : 
On  to  the  close,  O  Lord,  abide  with  me. 


86  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

I  need  Thy  presence  every  passing  hour  \ 
What  but  Thy  grace  can  foil  the  tempter's  power? 
Who  like  Thyself  my  guide  and  stay  can  be  ? 
Through  cloud  and  sunshine,  O  abide  with  me. 


I  fear  no  foe,  with  Thee  at  hand  to  bless : 
Ills  have  no  weight,  and  tears  no  bitterness. 
Where  is  death's  sting?  where,  grave,  thy  victory? 
I  triumph  still,  if  Thou  abide  with  me. 

Hold  Thou  Thy  cross  before  my  closing  eyes ; 
Shine  through  the  gloom,  and  point  me  to  the  skies : 
Heaven's  morning  breaks,  and  earth's  vain  shadows  flee 
In  life,  in  death,  O  Lord,  abide  with  me. 


This  hymn  he  handed  to  a  member  of  his  family  that  very 
night.  Setting  out  the  next  day,  Lyte  reached  Nice,  where  he 
died  on  November  20  of  the  same  year,  1847,  his  last  words 
being  "  Joy  !  Peace  !  "  There  his  body  lies,  the  grave  marked 
simply  by  that  cross  which  he  named  in  the  last  stanza  of  his 
immortal  lyric. 

Thus  "  Abide  with  me  "  was  written  in  the  shadows  of  death. 
Moreover,  Mr.  Lyte  had  been  having  some  trouble  with  his 
people,  and  it  is  said  that  the  words,  "When  other  helpers 
fail,"  were  prompted  by  the  estrangement  of  some  of  his  helpers 
in  the  church. 

In  an  earlier  poem,  "Declining  Days,"  Lyte  had  longed  to 
leave  behind  him 

"  Some  simple  strain,  some  spirit-moving  lay, 
Some  sparklet  of  the  Soul  that  still  might  live 
When  I  was  passed  to  clay." 

In  the  closing  stanza  he  had  prayed : 


Abide  With  Me  87 

"  O  Thou !  whose  touch  can  lend 
Life  to  the  dead,  Thy  quick'ning  grace  supply, 
And  grant  me,  swanlike,  my  last  breath  to  spend 
In  song  that  may  not  die  !  " 

Truly  that  prayer  was  answered.  Few  swan  songs  in  all 
earth's  history  have  been  so  honored  by  God  and  man. 

The  hymn  was  based,  of  course,  on  the  scene  at  Emmaus, 
and  the  words  (Luke  24  :  29),  "  Abide  with  us  :  for  it  is  toward 
evening,  and  the  day  is  far  spent."  It  is  not,  however,  an 
evening  hymn ;  for  the  evening  thought  of  by  the  poet  in  his 
hymn  was  the  twilight  of  life,  the  night  of  death. 

Of  the  eight  verses  originally  written,  and  given  above,  the 
third,  fourth,  and  fifth  are  usually  omitted  from  our  hymn- 
books.  Contrary  to  the  usual  result  in  such  condensations, 
there  is  here  a  gain  in  force,  as  most  readers  will  feel.  All, 
however,  will  wish  to  commit  to  memory  the  entire  hymn. 

Lyte  himself  composed  a  tune  for  this  hymn  on  the  same 
evening  when  he  wrote  it,  but  the  tune  that  is  universally  used 
with  it  was  written  by  Dr.  William  Henry  Monk,  a  noted 
London  musician,  in  1861.  The  tune  was  composed  in  ten 
minutes,  to  fill  a  blank  in  a  hymn-book. 

Among  Lyte's  other  hymns  the  best  known  are  "Pleasant 
are  thy  courts  above,"  "  As  pants  the  hart  for  cooling  streams," 
and  "Praise,  my  soul,  the  King  of  heaven."  "In  no  other 
writer,"  says  Dr.  Breed,  "are  poetry  and  religion  more  exqui- 
sitely united," 


"God  Be  With  You  Till  We  Meet  Again" 
J.  E.  Rankin 

This  beautiful  benediction  hymn  is  known  all  the  world 
around.  It  has  closed,  with  its  sweet  strains  of  Christian  fare- 
well, Endeavor  meetings  beyond  number.  It  is  always  the 
conclusion  of  our  great  Christian  Endeavor  Conventions. 

The  hymn  was  written  in  1882  by  Rev.  Jeremiah  Eames 
Rankin,  D.  D.,  LL.  D.,  who  was  at  that  time  pastor  of  the  First 
Congregational  Church  of  Washington,  D.  C.  It  was  written 
to  interpret  the  familiar  words,  "good-by,"  which  are  merely 
a  contraction  of  the  sentence,  "  God  be  with  you,"  and  it  was 
composed  as  a  Christian  benediction  hymn,  without  being  in- 
tended for  any  special  occasion.  Here  is  the  poem  entire.  The 
first,  second,  fourth,  and  seventh  stanzas  are  all  that  are  com- 
monly sung : 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again, 
By  His  counsels  guide,  uphold  you  ; 
With  His  sheep  securely  fold  you ; 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again. 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again, 
'Neath  His  wings  protecting  hide  you ; 
Daily  manna  still  divide  you  ; 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again. 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again, 

With  the  oil  of  joy  anoint  you  ; 

Sacred  ministries  appoint  you ; 
God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again. 
88 


God  Be  With  You  Till  We  Meet  Again     89 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again, 
When  life's  perils  thick  confound  you, 
Put  His  arms  unfailing  round  you  ; 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again. 


God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again, 

Of  His  promises  remind  you  ; 

For  life's  upper  garner  bind  you  ; 
God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again. 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again, 

Sicknesses  and  sorrows  taking, 

Never  leaving  nor  forsaking  ; 
God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again. 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again, 
Keep  love's  banner  floating  o'er  you  ; 
Smite  death's  threat'ning  wave  before  you 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again. 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again. 
Ended  when  for  you  earth's  story, 
Israel's  chariot  sweep  to  glory  ; 

God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again. 


Chorus 


Till  we  meet  at  Jesus'  feet, 
God  be  with  you  till  we  meet  again. 


I  copy  the  poem  from  Dr.  Rankin's  own  book,  giving  the 
form  he  preferred.  He  objected  very  strongly,  and  quite 
properly,  to  the  changes  introduced  by  the  hymn-tinkers,  such 
as,  "Put  His  loving  arms  around  you,"  "Daily  manna  still 
provide  you,"  and  the  repetition  in  the  chorus,  "  Till  we  meet 
again."  These  changes  transformed  the  thought,  and  are  cer- 
tainly the  reverse  of  an  improvement. 


90  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

Wherever  Christian  Endeavor  has  gone  this  hymn  has  been 
adopted,  and  it  has  been  translated  into  many  tongues.  Not 
only  have  Christian  Endeavorers  come  to  love  the  song,  but  it 
has  been  adopted  by  the  Woman's  Christian  Temperance  Union 
as  the  benediction  song  of  that  organization  also.  It  has  been 
sung  on  many  other  farewell  occasions,  as,  for  example,  in 
Memphis  three  years  ago,  when  a  company  of  three  thousand 
persons,  bidding  farewell  to  President  Roosevelt,  broke  out 
spontaneously  with  the  familiar  "  God  be  with  you  till  we  meet 
again." 

The  music  for  this  famous  hymn  was  composed,  at  Dr.  Rank- 
in's request,  by  William  Gould  Tomer,  at  that  time  a  school- 
teacher in  Carpentersville,  N.  J.  Mr.  Tomer's  music  was 
slightly  revised  by  Dr.  J.  W.  Bischoff,  the  blind  organist  of 
Dr.  Rankin's  church.  It  was  sung  in  that  church  for  the  first 
time.  It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  Mr.  Tomer  was  a  Method- 
ist, and  that  the  Methodists  at  Ocean  Grove  first  made  the 
hymn  popular. 

Dr.  Rankin  was  descended  from  the  Scotch  Covenanters. 
He  was  the  cousin  of  Melinda  Rankin,  the  stout-hearted  pioneer 
missionary  to  Mexico.  He  was  born  at  Thornton,  N.  H.,  Jan- 
uary 2,  1828,  and  died  at  Cleveland,  O.,  November,  28,  1904, 
aged  nearly  seventy-seven  years.  His  long  and  useful  life  in- 
cluded about  thirty-five  years  as  a  pastor,  and  about  seven  years 
as  professor  and  president  at  Howard  University,  that  noble 
institution  for  colored  people,  situated  in  Washington. 

Dr.  Rankin  wrote  many  poems,  and  published  a  volume  of 
hymns.  Among  his  hymns  that  have  become  especially 
famous  is, 

"  Out  of  my  darkness  into  Thy  light, 
Out  of  my  weakness  into  Thy  might, 
Jesus,  I  come ;  Jesus,  I  come." 


God  Be  With  You  Till  We  Meet  Again     91 

The  well-known  Christian  Endeavor  hymn,  "Keep  Your 
Colors  Flying,"  was  written  for  the  Fifth  International  Chris- 
tian Endeavor  Convention,  at  Saratoga,  where  it  was  first  sung. 
Dr.  Rankin  was  one  of  the  speakers  at  that  convention,  and  was 
from  the  start  deeply  interested  in  Christian  Endeavor.  Writ- 
ing concerning  his  famous  benediction  hymn,  he  once  said  : 
"  It  has  had  no  sweeter  recognition  than  that  given  it  by  its 
adoption  by  the  Young  People's  Society  of  Christian  Endeavor. 
Long,  long,  may  they  sing  it !  " 


"O  Day  of  Rest  and  Gladness" 
Bishop  Wordsworth 

Christopher  Wordsworth,  who  wrote  this  beautiful  hymn 
of  the  Lord's  Day,  was  a  nephew  of  the  great  poet,  William 
Wordsworth,  and  his  biographer.  He  was  born  in  England  in 
1807,  and  died  in  1885. 

When  a  lad,  he  was  athletic,  and  a  famous  scholar.  At  the 
early  age  of  thirty  he  won  a  splendid  position,  becoming  head 
of  the  school  at  Harrow.  In  1844  he  was  made  Canon  of 
Westminster  Abbey,  and  opposed  the  appointment  of  Dr. 
Arthur  Stanley  as  dean,  because  of  Stanley's  liberal  views.  In 
1869  he  became  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  and  labored  most  suc- 
cessfully in  that  position  till  his  death. 

Bishop  Wordsworth  was  a  notable  scholar,  and  wrote  many 
books,  especially  an  important  work  on  Greece,  and  a  learned 
commentary  on  the  Bible.  He  wrote  also  many  hymns,  127 
in  all,  which  he  placed  in  a  hymn-book  called  "The  Holy 
Year,"  published  in  1862.  These  hymns  were  written  to  illus- 
trate his  theory  that  hymns  should  not  deal  with  personal,  in- 
dividual interests,  but  that  they  should  teach  the  truths  of 
Scripture,  and  voice  the  worship  of  the  whole  congregation. 

The  first  hymn  of  the  book — almost  the  only  hymn  of 
Wordsworth's  that  is  well  known  or  much  used — is  the  beauti- 
ful lyric  we  are  to  commit  to  memory.  It  is  printed  here  just 
as  it  was  written,  but  in  our  hymn-books  the  fourth  stanza  is 
always  omitted,  as  distinctly  inferior  to  the  others. 

92 


O  Day  of  Rest  and  Gladness  93 

0  day  of  rest  and  gladness, 

O  day  of  joy  and  light, 
O  balm  of  care  and  sadness, 

Most  beautiful,  most  bright ; 
On  thee  the  high  and  lowly, 

Through  ages  join  in  tune, 
Sing  Holy,  Holy,  Holy, 

To  the  great  God  Triune. 


On  thee,  at  the  creation, 

The  light  first  had  its  birth  ; 
On  thee,  for  our  salvation, 

Christ  rose  from  depths  of  earth ; 
On  thee  our  Lord,  victorious, 

The  Spirit  sent  from  heaven ; 
And  thus  on  thee,  most  glorious, 

A  triple  light  was  given. 


Thou  art  a  port  protected 

From  storms  that  round  us  rise  ; 
A  garden  intersected 

With  streams  of  Paradise ; 
Thou  art  a  cooling  fountain 

In  life's  dry,  dreary  sand  ; 
From  thee,  like  Pisgah's  mountain, 

We  view  our  promised  land. 


Thou  art  a  holy  ladder, 

Where  angels  go  and  come  ; 
Each  Sunday  finds  us  gladder, 

Nearer  to  Heaven,  our  home. 
A  day  of  sweet  refection 

Thou  art,  a  day  of  love ; 
A  day  of  Resurrection 

From  earth  to  heaven  above. 


94  Twenty-Four  Memory  Hymns 

To-day  on  weary  nations 

The  heavenly  manna  falls  : 
To  holy  convocations 

The  silver  trumpet  calls, 
Where  gospel  light  is  glowing 

With  pure  and  radiant  beams, 
And  living  water  flowing 

With  soul-refreshing  streams. 

New  graces  ever  gaining 

From  this  our  day  of  rest, 
We  reach  the  rest  remaining 

To  spirits  of  the  blest. 
To  Holy  Ghost  be  praises, 

To  Father,  and  to  Son ; 
The  Church  her  voice  upraises 

To  Thee,  blest  Three  in  One. 


